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Splitting it asunder, it went down with all its crew.”— Page igd. 









ISKANDER 


A Romance of the Court of 
Philip of Macedon and Alexander the Great 


BY / 

MARSHALL MONROE KIRKMAN 

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AUTHOR OF 

“thk komancs of gilbert holmes,” “primitive carriers,” “the science 01 

RAILWAYS,” IN SIXTEEN VOLUME'' AND OTHER WORKS 



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THE WORLD RAILWAY PUBLISHING COMPANY 


CHICAGO 


NEW YORK 


LONDON 


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THE LIBRARY OF 
CONGRESS, 

Two Copies Received 


JUN 18 1903 

Copyright Entry 

/9o3 

/CLASS CV XXc. No 

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COPY 8, 


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Copyright, 1903 
BY 

The World Railway Publishing Company 

Entered at Stationers Hall, London, England 
All rights reserved 


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CONTENTS 


CHAPTER 

I. 

The Rightful King 


PAGE 

9 

II. 

The Conspiring Princes . 


• 26 

III. 

Olympias, Queen of Macedonia 


37 

IV. 

Alexander and Roxana . 


• 54 

V. 

The Theban Ambuscade 


68 

VI. 

After the Battle . 


• 77 

VII. 

The Persian Princess, Roxana 


86 

VIII. 

The Persians 


. 96 

V IX. 

The Wild Boar Hunt . 


102 

X. 

The Poisoned Cup . 


. 114 

XI. 

The Midnight Duel 


129 

XII. 

Olympus .... 


. 140 

XIII. 

For the King . 


154 

XIV. 

The Sibyl of the Vale 


• 173 

XV. 

The Lybian King 


186 

XVI. 

The Lion Hunt 


. 202 

XVII. 

The Princess Parcledes 


216 

XVIII. 

Alexander’s Return to Pella 


. 227 

XIX. 

Philip, King of Macedon 


236 

XX. 

Cleopatra, Attalus’ Niece . 


. 258 

XXI. 

The Deceived King 


280 

XXII. 

The Conspiracy 


. 290 

XXIII. 

Exile of Olympias 


305 

XXIV. 

The Historical Banquet of Philip 


. 322 

XXV. 

The Lees of the Wine . 


340 

XXVI. 

Alexander’s Flight from Pella . 


• 348 

XXVII. 

The Prayer to Jupiter . 


366 

XXVIII. 

Glaucus, The Barbarian . 


• 374 

XXIX. 

What the Kino Heard . 


385 

XXX. 

On the Battlefield 


• 392 

XXXI. 

The Death of Philip . 

. 

400 

XXXII. 

The Fulfillment of Life’s Ideal . 


• 415 




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ILLUSTRATIONS 


Page 

‘Splitting it asunder, it went down with all its crew” . . Frontispiece 

Map of Macedonia 336 B. C 25 

‘For the King” 168 




♦s. 




INTRODUCTION 

The closing years of Philip of Macedon and the rise of 
Alexander the Great are among the most remarkable in the 
history of the world, and it is amid the startling events and savage 
tragedies of this transition period that the story is laid. It 
was an age of great men — of Philip, Alexander, Demosthenes 
and Aristotle; an age of fair women: of intrigue, force, dramatic 
happenings ; of crimes innumerable ; and, through Alexander’s 
love attachment for Roxana, a period of romantic interest. 

Chicago, June, 1903. 


i 


I 


CHAPTER 1. 


THE RIGHTFUL KING. 

“Fair Pella, fortress of the plain, thou art my capital, 
mine, mine, thy rightful King's — not Philip’s!" 

Such was the sorrowful, half angry exclamation of 
the Prince Amyntas, an officer of exalted rank, as he 
drew rein in plain view of the war-like capital of Mace- 
donia. Behind him a troop of Thessalian cavalry halted 
in respectful silence, awaiting with patience his further 
movements. Their steeds and accoutrements were 
stained with dust and sweat, and otherwise bore evi- 
dence of a long and fatiguing march, as did those of their 
commander. A page, armed with a short sword and 
shining helmet, rode beside the Prince, and hearing his 
exclamation, turned to see if any had heard, exclaim- 
ing: 

“Do not speak thus, sweet Prince, for your words 
would cost you your life if they came to the King’s 
ears.’’ 

“Say rather the bloody usurper, Orestes. Yes; and 
may the Gods forsake him living and the furies that 
haunt the dark abyss of death pursue him when dead, 
for the cruel wrong he has done me," Amyntas cried, 
furiously, throwing his horse back on its haunches. 

“Hush, sweet Prince, for to wish another such harm 
is to call down the anger of the Gods on your own head," 
the young page answered with a look of horror. 

“I care not. I would I had the beast upon a spit be- 
fore a blazing fire, I would be a thousand years in the 
roasting of him," the other responded with sullen rage. 

( 9 ) 


10 


Iskander 


^^Oh, master, do not give utterance to such thoughts 
lest, coming to the King, they cause your destruction,’" 
Orestes exclaimed, in a supplicating voice, looking fur- 
tively behind him. 

curse upon him; a monstrous spider, ever weav- 
ing a web into which men are lured only to be devoured.” 

“Oh, sweet master! Though often harsh to others, 
he has ever been gentle to you, sparing your life while 
putting to death others he had not half the cause to 
fear.” 

“ ’Twas but another expression of his cruelty, Orestes. 
To have killed me would have been a mercy. For I, who 
should approach yonder capital as its King, now enter it 
as the messenger of him who has stolen my birthright. 
Nor did he filch it as man against man, but while I, a 
puling infant, could scarce lisp his name.” 

“ ’Tis said he did so to preserve his own life and yours, 
sweet master.” 

“Do you condone the act, you?” Amyntas responded, 
turning fiercely upon his companion, half raising the 
javelin he held in his hand. 

“I know not how it was,” the other mildly responded. 

“Then be silent. The treachery and greed of Philip 
is beyond your childlike mind. ’Tis only his absence 
that quiets the hearts of men. For see ! Away, his cap- 
ital sleeps in peaceful stillness in the summer sun. Pre- 
sent, it would resound with the cries of men, the blare 
of trumpets and the clang of hurrying soldiers. 

“ ’Tis a grateful peace, sweet Prince, for the wars 
give men little time for rest.” 

“Men! There are no longer men, but slaves. At his 
bidding we lie down in our tracks like grateful hounds, 
our stomachs empty and our wounds uncared for. Nor 


The Rightful King 11 

dare we ask when the one will be filled or the other 
cured/’ 

‘‘But if the King exacts much from others, oh Prince, 
he gives as freely of his own body and blood, as witness 
his missing eye and open wounds.” 

“Do you excuse him, you fool? Fie! For every 
wound he bears he has put a thousand men to death, and 
for his missing eye twenty thousand Greeks were butch- 
ered and as many sold to slavery. Not men only, but 
weeping women and wailing children. Bah! If he 
strives, Orestes, he alone is benefited, for he rights no 
wrongs but his own.” 

“Nay, do we not all share in the glory and wealth 
that the wars bring? If we sometimes have not an obol 
in our pockets the King is scarcely more fortunate. And 
if the wars are cruel, are they not followed by peace and 
security, things before unknown?” Orestes exclaimed 
with growing spirit. 

“Peace! Yes, the peace that follows the hurricane or 
tidal wave; the security that follows the feast of the 
bear. Today we gorge ourselves, to live afterwards on 
the remembrance of it. Ours is no longer the life of 
freemen, but of jackals.” 

“At least none may molest us save him, and that was 
not always so.” 

“Our wives and daughters were safer in an Illyrian 
camp than near the quarters of his Companion Cavalry, 
such license the King accords the lecherous favorites for 
their base subserviency. And ’tis by such agencies that 
he comes at last to pose as a God while we sweat and 
grunt without profit or honor.” 

“I like not such speech of our King, oh Prince.” 

“Say you so, stripling? You have not been wont to 


12 


Iskander 


find fault with such utterances, knowing the cause I have 
to hate the monster you call 'Our King,' " Amyntas cried, 
turning threateningly upon his youthful companion. 

"If the King be as you say, Alexander, who will suc- 
ceed him, has committed no offense; he at least is gentle 
and true in all things,” Orestes responded, striving to 
turn the other’s thoughts. 

"The jackal’s whelp. His appetite is not less sharp 
than the other’s, albeit he cannot look a woman in the 
face or listen to the rustle of her garments without blush- 
ing; things so sweet to Philip’s eyes and ears.” 

"No one can say aught against the Prince, try as they 
may, for he possesses every virtue, and each one has a 
counterpart in his skill at arms and courage in battle. 
Fitly enough is he called 'The Young Lion of Mace- 
donia.’ ” 

"Lion, thou fool! Yes, if a yellow mane be all that is 
needed to make him such. In some ways, though, the 
name is fit enough. For underneath his soft skin beats a 
heart so insatiable of glory that the blood of all mankind 
will not suffice to slake its thirst. You are a fool, Orestes. 
Was it to hear such prattle that I have taught you arms 
and the graces of life? There is no measuring the arro- 
gance of Alexander now that he is given preference over 
older and better men.” 

"There is not a soldier in the camp who boasts so 
little, oh Prince. He loves glory as other men do wine 
and women, that is all. And well he may, for no one 
in Macedonia, not Clitus even, can stand before him with 
sword or uplifted lance. Who can hurl a javelin with 
such mortal hurt as Alexander? You do your cousin 
wrong in every way, oh Prince. For he is in all things, 
in learning and chivalrous courage, superior to other 


15 


The Rightful King 

‘‘Yes, that would have been the better way, but en- 
raged at his treasonable speech I thought not to restrain 
my hand. He doubly deserved to die the death of a 
traitor, for he meditated nothing less than the death of 
both Philip and Alexander, and so he boasted.’’ 

“I like not to see the blood of our brave young nobles 
thus shed. ’Tis not such as he, poor boy, that the King 
has cause to fear, but those who eat his bread while they 
envy him his state,” Clitus hotly responded. 

“Do you insinuate so base a charge against me? By 
the Gods I will send you to keep the traitor company.” 

“Nay, it is not for me to judge,” Clitus answered, 
springing to the back of his horse in all haste. “But stay 
your hand, oh Prince, for by the beard of Cyclops if you 
but lift it so much as the width of your bridle rein I will 
kill you were you the King,” and holding his lance high 
in air he awaited the other’s movements. 

“Nay, I meant you no harm, Clitus. We are too old in 
companionship of arms to think evil of each other. Put 
down your lance. ’Twas an idle speech. I mourn the 
boy’s death not less than you, traitor though he was. 
And in proof of what I say, do you stay here and see that 
the body is fitly cared for ; I must not lose further time in 
reaching the city,” and raising his sword aloft, as a 
signal to the troop, he put spurs to his horse, the soldiers 
casting pitying glances upon their prostrate companion 
as they passed. 

Dismounting, Clitus sat himself down, and resting 
Orestes’ head upon his lao murmured, a sob filling his 
throat : 

“Eye of Cyclops, what could it have been! Not what 
Amyntas claims, Pd stake my life. More likely ’twas 
he who threatened the King, for he bears him a mortal 


16 


Iskander 


grudge, though Philip will not believe it. Poor boy! 
You were too brave to die thus dishonored.” 

At this Orestes, as if brought back to life by the soft 
speech of the other, opened his eyes, glazed with the 
film of death. 

‘^Must I die, Clitus?” he murmured. ‘^You weep! 
Then it must be so. And the other, has he gone?” he 
went on, a shudder passing through his frame as he 
sought to raise himself. ‘‘Oh, ^tis hard to die, Clitus. 
Everything is so beautiful and life so new, and the wars, 
Clitus, the wars ! But oh, the pain,” he moaned, laying 
his hand on his breast where the lance lay buried, the 
light Cretan shaft having broken as he fell. 

“ Twill be over soon, sweet child. Think not of 
dying, but of the friends who will mourn your death. 
Oh, I am crazy, crazy at your undoing,” Clitus sobbed, 
distracted. 

“I thought to have died fighting for the King, not this 
way, Clitus, for he was very tender to me when I was 
stricken at the Winter battle.” 

“Yes, yes, and so he will believe, let Amyntas say 
what he will. Oh ye Gods, did ever loyal page serve 
so cruel a master!” 

“He was in a passion, Clitus, and so struck me down, 
not knowing what he did. Hold it not against him, 
for he has suffered more than most men and is crazed 
with brooding over his wrongs. Lift me up, Clitus — 
how still the city; and the black mountains — how they 
top the plain ! Oh, Clitus, I would I did not have to die,” 
he sobbed. 

“Nor would I have you, dear heart, but every one must 
die, and the soldier more quickly than another,” Clitus 
answered, making believe life a very small thing indeed. 


17 


The Rightful King 

^'Hold me nearer to you, Clitus. In your arms; I’m 
sinking; it’s death, Clitus, death. Oh, mother — I’m 
dying — mother — save me, save me! — watch — over — ^the 
— King — Clitus — and — the— Prince, — they are in dan- 
ger. See! The Prince, Clitus. Look! He heads the 
charge. Hearken! The troop answer his cry! There! 
The whirl of the dust, and the thunder — they strike — 
again and again — the Thebans waver, give way, they fly 

— they fly — the Prince is — mother, mother ,” and 

with the whispered word upon his lips his body relaxed 
and with a sob filling his throat the young soldier lay still. 

For a long time Clitus gazed on the prostrate body, 
tears streaming down his bronzed face. Then, remem- 
bering how the gentle youth had met his death, he held 
his clenched hand aloft, crying: 

“May the Gods pursue and punish Amyntas, the cow- 
ardly assassin! To fall thus, and so young,” he went on, 
his mood changing. “But ’tis only a day sooner, for 
everyone must die.” 

“Yes, but not until our appointed hour,” exclaimed a 
deep voice almost in his ear. Looking up Clitus beheld 
the speaker bending far down over the side of his horse, 
scanning the features of the prostrate youth. “ ’Tis only 
a faint, and his hurt may not be mortal if the iron did 
not cleave the heart; had it done that he would never 
have spoken.” 

“Who are you?” Clitus exclaimed, starting to his feet 
and eying the speaker with kindly interest, so assured 
and gentle was the other’s voice. 

“My name would mean little to you, for I am naught 
but a simple leech, following with my slave, for greater 
safety, in the train of the exalted Prince Amyntas.” 

The speaker, as Clitus saw, was a man past middle 


18 


Iskander 


life, but of such dignity and commanding presence that 
his age was lost in the majesty of his bearing. His 
meagre form was enveloped in a long cloak which 
reached quite to the ground, while a soft hat of Mace- 
donian pattern shaded his dark and piercing eyes. His 
beard, combed with the utmost care, covered his breast, 
giving him a patriarchal air quite foreign to the native 
Macedonian. Having made himself known, the leech, 
without further speech, dismounted and knelt beside the 
stricken youth, pressing his ear against the other’s breast. 

“It is as I thought; his heart still beats, though delay 
in applying needed remedies would quickly prove his 
death. The shock was too much, worn out as he is by the 
long and fatiguing march.” 

“He was already weak from a previous illness and the 
fatigues of the Grecian campaign,” Clitus explained. 

“Yes; and see!” the leech continued, “here is another 
wound, a spear thrust, and but partially healed.” 

“Poor youth, ’tis a wound he received in the Winter 
battle, but made believe it had healed when he joined the 
king at Cheronea.”* 

“The new wound is not mortal,” the leech went on, 
and taking a vial from the pocket of his cloak, poured 
its contents into Orestes’ open mouth. No sooner had 


*Properly, Chseronea. But as only the “e” is sounded in this 
conjunction of vowels, it is confusing rather than enlightening to all 
save Greek scholars. Therefore, where these conjunctions serve 
no general purpose they are disregarded here and elsewhere 
throughout the book. 


19 


The Rightful King 

he done this than the youth's eyes softly closed, and from 
his lips there issued a gentle sigh. 

‘‘Ye Gods! You have killed him," Clitus exclaimed 
with flaming eyes. 

Making no answer, the stranger arose and took from 
the net fastened about his horse an earthen vessel, and 
opening it allowed the liquid it contained to flow over 
the wounded part. Now taking firm hold of the javelin 
he gently pulled it from the gaping wound. Losing no 
time, he flooded the deep cavity with the soothing liquid, 
upon which the blood ceased to flow, the flesh closing 
about the hurt as if from a natural cause. 

“The wound is not mortal and in an hour he will have 
regained his senses. But 'twill not do to move him, lest 
the wound open afresh, or he die of exhaustion," he 
went on, rising to his feet. “Is there not some habitation 
near, where we can take him ?" 

“Yes, yonder hut, not an arrow's flight from where we 
stand," Clitus answered, pointing towards the river 
Lydias. 

“ 'Tis more like an ancient castle." 

“I would it were a palace. 'Twould be none too good 
for the gentle Princess." 

“The Princess?" 

“Yes, the sorrowing widow of Menetaus." 

“The Princess Parcledes," the leech exclaimed in sur- 
prise. 

‘^Yes, that most unhappy of women." 

“I know her history well, for I was long attendant 
upon her husband, the unfortunate Prince, during his 
exile," the leech responded in a low voice, as if sad- 
dened by the remembrance. 

“Perhaps in some atonement, who can tell, Philip has 


20 


Iskander 


given her this asylum, and here she lives in close retire- 
ment with her daughter Eurydice.’' 

‘‘Unhappy Princess,” the leech answered, scanning the 
ancient structure. 

“Kind of heart, she will gladly give Orestes a bed, if 
affliction has not changed her nature.” 

“Affliction makes mankind softer, not harder. But 
come! We talk when we should act,” and wrapping 
Orestes’ body in his cloak they slowly made their way 
toward Parcledes’ hut. Approaching the river, they saw 
beneath them a rambling building of rough stone, rudely 
cemented, weather beaten and black with centuries of 
age. The stout door that faced the plain was closed and 
no smoke issued from the roof to indicate that the hut 
was inhabited. 

“I was wrong; the hut is no longer tenanted,” Clitus 
exclaimed, grievously disappointed, as he looked down 
on the time-worn structure. 

“It does not matter,” the leech answered shortly, push- 
ing forward, “a good fire will soon make it habitable.” 

Reaching the hut, Clitus struck the door blow on blow 
with the hilt of his sword, until at last, as he was casting 
about for some means to force an entrance, a tremulous 
voice, half choked with fear, called out : 

“Go your way, stranger, nor seek to force an en- 
trance.” 

\ “We cannot, sweet friend, if we would, for a brave 
man’s life depends on our finding shelter, and that 
quickly,” Clitus cried. 

“Who are you?” the voice answered after a moment’s 
pause. 

“Soldiers of the King.” 


21 


The Rightful King 

Hearing this the inmate of the hut gave a frightened 
cry, but made no other response. 

“Give me leave,” the leech exclaimed to Clitus. “Your 
voice has too much the tone of command,” and turning 
to the door went on: “We mean you no harm, be you 
whom you may ; but come as suppliants, bearing the body 
of a wounded youth whom no one can deny shelter with- 
out offending the Gods. Open to us and fear not.” 

“I am alone and dare not if I would,” the voice an- 
swered, as if only half assured. 

“You have no cause to fear, for we are neither rob- 
bers nor betrayers of the weak. Open,” the leech went 
on sternly, “if you would not offend the Gods by your 
perversity.” 

“I pray you wait my mother’s return; ’twill be but a 
moment,” the voice replied, but no longer in fear. 

“Your roof will shield the stricken man from the heat 
and noonday sun. Open now, lest his death be on your 
head.” 

To this appeal there was no response for some sec- 
onds, but at last, as if her heart overcame her fears, she 
opened wide the door. Nor did they wonder at her hesi- 
tancy when they beheld her face. For she was but a child, 
just blooming into womanhood, and with such gentle 
mixture of dignity and soft timidity that she appeared like 
an apparition as she stood looking out from the lonely 
hut. Gazing in pity on Orestes’ slight form and pale face 
she exclaimed: 

“You are welcome. No one in distress is ever denied 
shelter here.” 

“We ask nothing but a place in which to lay the poor 
youth,” the leech answered, bending low in obeisance to 
the young girl, as if she were a Queen. 


22 


Iskander 


^*How came he by the grievous wound?” she ex- 
claimed, advancing to Orestes’ side and tenderly smooth- 
ing the linen tunic about his throat. ^‘Was he of the 
troop that passed a moment since?” 

“Yes,” Clitus broke in, “they were frolicking in bois- 
terous play, overjoyed at their return home; and in the 
scrimmage the youth met the thrust which came so near 
to costing him his life, if indeed it does not finally end 
that way.” 

“He will live, fear not, if he have quiet and care,” the 
leech exclaimed as they bore Orestes’ body within the 
house. 

“He shall have both here, I promise you,” Eurydice, 
for such was the young girl’s name, answered, and call- 
ing to a slave woman she bade her fix a couch for the 
wounded man. Hastening away, the slave soon returned, 
bringing lion skins and sheets of snow white linen. With 
these she quickly made a pallet, upon which Clitus and 
the leech lost no time in depositing their wounded com- 
panion. 

Refreshing the wound with soothing lotions, and bind- 
ing it with soft compresses, the leech arose and looked 
around on the cool and refreshing room, exclaiming: 

“If we had searched the kingdom we could not have 
found so fit a place as this.” 

While they stood thus about Orestes’ couch, the door 
opened and a woman of majestic presence and gentle 
manners entered the room. Scanning the apartment and 
seeing Clitus she cried out with smiling countenance: 

“To what happy chance is it that I owe a visit from 
so good a friend and so brave a soldier ?” 

“To a most cruel accident, sweet Princess, that has 




23 


The Rightful King 

befallen my friend and companion in arms,” Clitus re- 
sponded, saluting her. 

“You are welcome, but who is the unfortunate youth, 
for he is scarce more,” she went on, her gaze resting on 
the wounded lad. 

“Orestes, a noble youth, page to the sovereign Prince, 
Amyntas,” Clitus replied, not trusting himself to say 
more. 

“And your companion, Clitus, if it be not rude to ask?” 

“I am Jaron,” the other interposed, “a leech of the 
city of Hypata of Thessaly, exalted Princess. A dealer in 
magic, to those who crave such stimulant. But of this 
I take no account more than of the love filters in which 
I deal; though in such things I question not the belief 
of others. The first I use to give hope to the despairing 
and allay the fears of the distressed, or for pay if such 
things are craved by the superstitious. But my remedies, 
gentle Princess, are those of the leech, the distillations of 
herbs and minerals that have been used for generations 
by my people.” 

“Enough! You are welcome! My hut is open to the 
wounded youth, and you, Clitus, and this good leech. 
Such as we have to bestow we will gladly give,” she an- 
swered, going to the couch and kneeling beside Orestes. 
Gazing long and attentively at the upturned face, she at 
last bent over and kissed it, murmuring : “My son would 
have been like him, Clitus, had he been spared by the 
stern King.” 

“He needs but quiet and good nursing,” Jaron went 
on, disregarding her words. “His youth will win him 
back to health. But you, Clitus, good friend, need not 
stay if the King's business calls you hence. I have naught 
to urge me and may remain.” 


24 


Iskander 


'Tis a thing I should remember, for I bear dis- 
patches that I may not delay longer,’^ Clitus answered, 
and kneeling down he kissed Orestes, murmuring a 
prayer to the Gods for his recovery. Rising to his feet, 
he saluted those present and without further speech took 
his departure. 



( 25 ) 



CHAPTER IL 

1 

THE CONSPIRING PRINCES. 

The year in which our story opens was the twenty- 
•first of the reign of Philip of Macedon and the three hun- 
dred and thirty-eighth before the Christian Era. Pella, 
the capital of Macedonia, that had so often resounded 
with the thunder of the Companion Cavalry and the tread 
of the embattled Phalanx, now made no sign of life save 
where some sentinel stood erect and motionless, or noisy 
children disturbed the quietude of the street. 

The scene spread out before Amyntas as he hurried 
forward was one, indeed, to have soothed his fiery pas- 
sions had his heart been les^ sore or his mind less occu- 
pied with its wrongs. Far-off, on the distant horizon, 
towering mountains bathed in the blue mist of a summer’s 
sun met the attentive eye. Near at hand and stretching 
away to the lofty heights a verdant plain lay out- 
stretched. In its very center and like a glistening gem 
Pella, the fair capital of Macedonia, stood revealed. To 
one side, and without the walls of the city, a squadron 
of mounted troops were practicing with spear and sword. 
Nearer, and as if in peaceful industry, a company of sol- 
diers with lances of varying lengths were going through 
the formations of the Phalanx, a thing Philip had con- 
ceived, and that no enemy could overcome. To the left 
the Lydias, dotted with sails and slow moving barges, 
wended its way toward the Gulf, and so to the Grecian 
sea. Beyond this a marsh extended, half enveloping the 
city, its green border thickly sprinkled with grazing cat- 
( 26 ) 


27 


The Conspiring Princes 

tie. Of Philip’s mighty army there was no sign. For it 
was with the King in Greece, victorious at last over the 
forces of Athens and Thebes in that final struggle where- 
in all went down before his victorious arms. 

But of this no word had yet reached Pella and its wait- 
ing Queen, or the hushed wives and sweethearts of those 
who had gone forth to battle for Macedonia’s King. Thus 
weeks, had passed, wherein those left behind scarce spoke 
above a whisper, so great and absorbing was the anxiety 
of all. So it was on that hot afternoon in August when, 
as we have seen, the sovereign Prince, Amyntas, with an 
escort of horse, spurred on to the waiting city. Reaching 
the capital the shrill blast of his bugles and the thunder 
of his horses’ feet startled the sleeping city and brought 
its inhabitants running into the hot and dusty streets. 
Raising his arm in salutation, yet no way slackening his 
speed, he bade the trumpeter sound the note of victory. 
At this the gaping crowd gave a mighty shout which, 
oft repeated, was carried forward, so that the whole city 
quickly knew the courier’s message. Sounding the note 
anew as he approached the citadel, the guard and soldiers 
loitering about the entrance hurried forward, welcoming 
him with uplifted arms and eager cries. Disdaining all 
speech, except to say that the Macedonian army was vic- 
torious, Amyntas dismounted, bidding his followers seek 
quarters in the barracks near at hand. Motioning the 
guard to hoist the gate that guarded the outer entrance, 
he hurried across the narrow bridge that separated the 
city from the lofty citadel of the King. 

This mighty structure was Philip’s work, and he being 
poor made it answer the five-fold purpose of a palace, 
treasury, magazine of arms, fortress and prison of state. 
No part of this great and impregnable fortress remains 


28 


Iskander 


today, after the lapse of twenty-two centuries, to mark 
the spot where it reared its lofty front. But the curious 
traveler may still discern traces of the island on which it 
stood, but so washed by rains and river floods that it is 
now scarce higher than the surrounding marsh. The 
massive blocks of stone of which it was constructed, 
brought from the neighboring mountains, were long ages 
ago carried away by Roman or Turk, to be used for other 
and more peaceful purposes. Access to the great fortress 
was by a swinging bridge across the Lydias, the citadel 
being defended on that side by an outer wall, interspersed 
with towers, slotted at irregular distances for its better 
protection. From these and the heights above, and from 
the castle walls as well, the garrison could at will defend 
the mighty structure with little or no risk to themselves. 

Entrance to the citadel was by an open way, protected 
by a massive portcullis studded with iron and of such 
strength and thickness that it was believed to be impreg- 
nable. The protecting wall, within which the gate was 
raised, was thirty feet in height and ten in thickness. It 
ran along the margin of the river, covering the front of 
the fortress, and connecting with the latter at either end 
by a wall of equal height. In the enclosure thus formed 
a strong guard was stationed, and here much of the busi- 
ness of the fortress was transacted. Passing from this 
open space through a portcullis, similar to that in the 
outer wall, admission was gained to an interior and 
roomy court forming the vestibule of the fortress. This 
spacious enclosure was paved with marble slabs, its walls 
being covered by silken portieres and trophies of Philip's 
wars. In this room the captain of the guard made his 
headquarters, and here the frequenters and gossips of 
the court came to meet their friends and discuss the latest 


29 


The Conspiring Princes 

news. Opposite the entrance to the vestibule a protected 
way led to the magazines and offices of the fortress which 
covered the whole of the lower floor. On either side 
of this door interior stairs led to the living part of the 
castle above. Along the length of these stairs, at fre- 
quent intervals, the walls were pierced with openings, 
from which resistance might still be offered should an 
enemy gain access to the court below. At the top the 
stairs opened on an extended portico, upheld by marble 
columns that looked out on an interior court. Around 
this the towering fortress rose, tier upon tier, to its full 
height. For the comfort and convenience of those occu- 
pying the gloomy dwelling the lower story of the fortress 
was covered over, forming the floor of the great court. 
This was used as a promenade and for the banquets which 
the King gave his officers and nobles at frequent inter- 
vals. Facing the great court, wide galleries ran around 
the structure, giving access to the rooms of the palace 
on the different floors. Besides these others were con- 
nected by secret doors and hidden stairways, devised by 
Philip for the convenience and greater safety of the royal 
family. The prison, a most important adjunct of the 
fortress, occupied the topmost story, access to it being 
gained by interior and closely guarded stairways. 

The outer walls of the citadel were pierced throughout 
their height by irregular openings, as in the case of the 
river front. In its lower part these openings were scarce 
larger than a man’s hand and designed rather as a means 
of defense than to afford light or air, these being gained 
from the interior court. About the cells of the prison 
the openings were somewhat larger, these being the only 
means afforded for light or air. Surrounding the fortress 
on the three sides not protected by the river there was a 


30 


Iskander 


ditch one hundred feet in width and thirty in depth, filled 
with water from the river Lydias. Beyond this for a 
mile or more an impassable morass further protected 
the fortress against assault. 

Apart from the main entrance and on one side, and 
so small as to be scarce discernible, a strongly guarded 
postern afforded ingress and egress to the royal family. 
Here they might enter or leave the palace unnoticed, their 
barges being drawn up close against the fortress wall, 
for of platform or landing there was no sign. And of 
this door, it was said, Philip, because of his numerous 
liaisons, made much greater use at night than at any other 
time of the day. About the courts and balconies"of the 
citadel soldiers stood guard day and night, the regula- 
tions being those of a fortress in time of war. Nor was 
this a foolish provision, for until Philip’s strong reign 
Princes and disaffected chiefs plotted continually against 
the King, not hesitating at any means by which to com- 
pass his overthrow or death. On the summit and walls 
of the fortress, as a further protection, machines were 
placed for casting missiles and contrivances for pouring 
boiling water and pitch on the heads of assailants. Be- 
sides these there were ballistas for throwing stones, cata- 
pults and bows for casting darts ; in fact, every appliance 
known to that rugged and war-like age. Such was 
Philip’s palace. 

Amyntas, gaining admission to the vestibule of the 
great structure, found it deserted save by the captain of 
the guard, who sat moodily drawing lines with his scab- 
bard on the marble floor. Looking up and seeing the 
other, he sprang to his feet, crying : 

‘‘Amyntas, by all the Gods!” 


31 


The Conspiring Princes 

Returning the other’s salutation, the Prince answered 
in a voice far from amiable : 

‘‘Yes, Pausanias, it is I, Amyntas, the Courier of 
Philip.” 

“And whence come you, good cousin?” 

“Where, think you, save from Philip’s camp,” Amyntas 
answered, seating himself and motioning the other to 
do the same. 

“First, a cup of wine to cheer you, for you look worn 
and depressed,” Pausanias exclaimed, filling a goblet for 
the Prince and another for himself. These being drank, 
he went on: “Your coming is most welcome, Amyntas, 
for we have heard nothing for days and our nerves are 
on edge from the suspense. What news do you bring, 
good or bad?” 

“Bad, if your interests lie not on Philip’s side.” 

“Is it so, sweet Prince? I had hoped the contrary. For 
’tis plain,” Pausanias exclaimed despondently, “that every 
triumph of Philip and his aspiring son, every hour they 
live, but the more surely fixes our dependent state.” 

“Touch me not too nearly, Pausanias, for I am that 
raw that I could strike my own brother dead, if he but 
offended me by a look.” 

“Forgive me, for you have most cause for anger. But 
I heard it said that your marriage to Philip’s daughter 
had reconciled you to your state, though it was but a 
crumb to you while saving the whole loaf to Philip,” the 
other answered ironically. 

“Could any one but a fool have thought the chaining 
of his helpless daughter to my shattered fortunes could 
make me more content? Nay, this new servitude but 
deepens my hatred of the monster!” 

“Time will soften your rancor and still your young 


32 


Iskander 


ambition. ’Tis ever thus with the belated Prince/’ Pau- 
sanias answered in a voice to stir the other’s blood. 

*‘No; by the Gods, no! Each passing hour but adds 
to my hatred. I were worse than a shackled slave, Pau- 
sanias, could aught, save my rights, move me to 
quietude.” 

“ ’Tis folly to dream of any change, Amyntas. Only 
the death of Philip and Alexander can open a way to the 
throne, for they were never more firmly fixed than now. 
No one, unless indeed it be the King of Persia, longer 
disputes their power, and he, ’tis said, can scarce sit his 
throne from fright. But tell me, cousin, is it true then 
that Philip’s arms and subtle craft have been crowned 
with complete success in this final trial of strength?” 

“Yes, Thebes lies despoiled, trampled in the dust, her 
people sold to slavery. Athens, so long a thorn in Philip’s 
side, has ceased her chattering and sits dumb and trem- 
bling beside her fish-baskets and empty tribunals. Seeing 
this,” Amyntas continued with bitter speech, “all Greece 
will yield, save enfeebled Sparta. Thus, at last, the beast 
sits enthroned amid seas of blood with none so coura- 
geous as to oppose his will.” 

“I would I had been there to see the Attic wind-bags 
when they at last collapsed. Was it a hurricane, Amyntas, 
or merely a bad smell?” 

“They might have won, the driveling idiots. But they 
must needs oppose us without fit generals and, answer- 
ing Philip’s taunts, rush down into the level plain to meet 
him on ground chosen by himself.” 

“It was like them, Amyntas,” Pausanias answered con- 
temptuously. “But if it be true that Philip is now su- 
preme, nothing intervenes between him and Persia’s con- 
quest. And with that all hope of our redemption is lost 


33 


The Conspiring Princes 

forever — if indeed Philip should live so long,” he added, 
with a leer. 

“Yes; and as if it were not enough to rob me of my 
throne, I must needs stay behind, so Philip avers, to guard 
the women while others gather the sweets of victory. 
Oh most unhappy fate, to be born a King and live a para- 
site !” 

“Your misfortunes others share, for the kingdom 
swarms with Princes plucked from their thrones that 
Philip’s house may grow,” Pausanias answered bitterly. 
“My own country was once as mighty as Macedonia. 
Now it is nothing, while I, its rightful Prince, have 
scarce more honor at the court than the page who holds 
the King’s stirrup.” 

“And rightly, too, for you, no more than the other 
captives, will raise a hand to regain your rights. I, only, 
still hope and strive for my own.” 

“Say not so, sweet Prince. You know not what is in 
the hearts of men. But Philip’s eyes and ears are like 
the stars of heaven, so infinite are the spies who watch 
over the safety of the state.” 

“To frighten cowards, Pausanias. Your white faces 
and supple knees denote all too well a lack of enterprise 
and manly courage.” 

“Has my cheek less color than yours, Amyntas? Or 
my knees greater pliancy ? Point but the way, for I, not 
less than you, will never have a dreamless night till Philip 
and his son are dead.” 

“Vain sounding words ! Amidst such vaporings Philip 
sleeps in his bed and picking here and there, adds daily 
to the number of his wives.” 

“Have you done more than the others, Amyntas ? No I 
With greater provocation you hide behind the skirts of 


34 Iskander 

Philip's child, while others, as deserving, freeze in the 
open streets." 

“Not so! While others deplore their unhappy fate, in 
some secure corner, I only have sought to weaken the 
King’s power by destroying his aspiring son." 

“That indeed was an ingenious thing to do, if it be 
true," Pausanias answered skeptically. “Come! tell me 
the brave story, good cousin. I did not think you half 
so enterprising." 

“No ! the tale is without point, and my tongue halts in 
the telling because of its failure," Amyntas replied in 
sullen mood. 

“Nay, that does not matter. Go on. ’Twas a brave 
thing to attempt, however it ended." 

“Long I sought a chance, but without avail, until at 
Cheronea fortune seemed to point the way. For I fol- 
lowed close upon the heels of Alexander, who fought in 
the very front. At last, when in the thick of the fight 
he was beset on every side, seeing the chance and being 
sure, I hurled my spear full at his exposed body." 

“Well, well, go on! You at least wounded the lion’s 
whelp ?" 

“No, not even that. For stooping suddenly to rescue 
Clitus, who lay prostrate on the ground, the missile passed 
him harmlessly. And as if this were not enough, it must 
needs strike Theagenes, the Theban commander, who, but 
for the blow, would have transfixed the Prince with his 
uplifted spear." 

“Ye Gods! It must indeed be true, as Philip claims, 
that some kindly Deity watches over the fortune of these 
usurping Princes." 

“I know not, but so exalted is Philip’s courage that 
he will not believe harm can come to him unless the Gods 


35 


The Conspiring Princes 

decree it. Nay, he scarce believes treachery can exist 
where he is, so swollen is his state.” 

“You speak of him as if you somehow thought him 
great,” Pausanias answered with a sneer. 

“I do, and in that hold his offense the greater. For 
only small men, like mice, can find excuse for filching 
from the helpless when entrusted to their honor.” 

“Did not Alexander observe your flying spear and so 
accuse you?” Pausanias asked, reverting to the former 
subject. 

“Yes. Seeing the Theban fall, transfixed, he turned 
about and smiled his thanks. After the battle, in which 
those who followed him turned defeat into victory, he 
sought me out and pledged me as his deliverer from 
death.” 

“Then you must needs be in high favor at the court?” 
Pausanias answered enviously. 

“Yes, and when opportunity comes I will use it to 
destroy the whole brood, not leaving one.” 

“Through this miscarriage then we may behold the 
fruition of our hopes,” Pausanias answered pompously. 
“Such are the happenings of men. When their fortunes 
arc seemingly lost, the door flies open and they regain 
their rights. But tell me, if you are not weary, how does 
Alexander bear himself, the retriever of a failing fight? 
This coming on the heels of other honors must so puff 
him with pride of self that he can scarce set foot on the 
yielding earth.” 

“No, this new glory he accepts as a thing ordained and 
but a part of the path he is to tread.” 

“ Tis like him, for he is not as those about him, but 
seems always to live in the future more than in the pres- 
ent.” 


36 


I skander 


“Yes; and have you never noticed, Pausanias, he looks 
not at you, but through you, as if caught by some object 
beyond. By the Gods ! except that his life is in my way 
I could love him for the serenity and courage with which 
he faces the fortunes of life. As it is, I hate him and 
live only to find a way to kill him and his usurping father. 


CHAPTER III. 

OLYMPIAS, QUEEN OF MACEDONIA. 

While Amyntas and Pausanias were thus complaining 
of their wrongs and threatening both the King and Alex- 
ander, the prolonged blast of a trumpet from without 
the fortress broke in upon their speech. 

^Tis the signal of the Queen to open the outer gate,” 
Pausanias exclaimed, without leaving his seat. 

“Does she go much abroad, or is it as formerly?” 
Amyntas asked. 

“No; she scarce leaves the fortress from one week’s 
end to another. But the mood seizing her, she will trail 
back and forth for hours in the windings of the Lydias, 
speaking to no one. But here the tigress comes,” Pau- 
sanias exclaimed, springing to his feet as the gate of the 
fortress was upraised, revealing the Queen advancing 
with her retinue of women and pages. 

Olympias, Queen of Macedonia, so great in her sor- 
rows and so masterful in her ways, was still young. But 
her face, which had once been supremely beautiful, was 
now clouded with the disappointments of her life and the 
fierce passions to which she gave unrestrained sway. It 
was not, as in her youth, the face of a trusting woman, 
but that of a lioness, eager, ambitious and craving. A 
face that looked out with fierce questioning eyes from a 
wilderness of yellow hair that no net or hood could hold. 
Hers was the face of a woman that only trusting love 
could have subdued and that, meeting deception, would 
flash back with fierce scorn and implacable hatred. Dis- 
appointed in Philip, whose love scarce lasted through 

( 37 ) 


38 


Iskander 


the nuptial hour, all her happiness now rested in Alexan- 
der, whom she treasured with tender love. Philip’s gross 
indulgences that only a complaisant wife could have 
looked upon with calmness, excited in her such furious 
rage and unbridled speech that the court was constantly in 
a turmoil of excitement because of it. The King, whose 
sins were of daily occurrence, heightened his offense by 
openly questioning her fidelity, and doing so professed to 
find excuse therein for still further neglecting her. Thus 
it came about, at last, that they had no common interests 
save in their chivalrous son. But now Alexander, siding 
with his mother in all things, he and those about him, 
it was thought, were in great danger of losing the King’s 
favor. So that the Queen had come to believe that Alex- 
ander's succession might at any moment be endangered 
by some court intrigue or jealous impulse of the King. 
Such was her unhappy state, on that August afternoon 
when Amyntas, seeing her enter the fortress, ran and 
threw himself on his knees before her, exclaiming : 

“Plail, gracious Queen, mother of Alexander, deign to 
smile upon me for the glorious news I bring 1” 

^‘Your countenance, sweet Prince, not less than your 
words reassure me,” she answered, giving him her hand 
to kiss, pleased at his reference to Alexander. 

‘‘Yes, august sovereign, our army again triumphs and 
all Greece lies prostrate, nor thinks further of disputing 
Philip’s will.” 

“The triumph of our arms is an oft told tale, Amyntas. 
Nowhere can men be found to withstand the charge of 
our well ordered troops,” the Queen answered without 
animation. 

“No, nor do they think of it longer, gracious Queen.” 


Olympias, Queen of Macedonia 39 

^‘Did many fall on our side? Be careful what you say, 
Amyntas, for the wives and children of all Macedonia 
will be stricken or gladdened by your words.” 

^‘We suffered little, oh Queen, being the aggressors. 
But on the side of the Greeks half their force fell or were 
taken captive.” 

“The King, is he well? And Alexander, the hope of 
Macedonia?” she went on eagerly; “how did he bear 
himself, Amyntas?” 

“No words of mine can paint his chivalrous bearing 
nor the brilliancy of his achievements on the field of bat- 
tle, oh Queen. The army with one voice acclaim him 
victor, hailing him as King, so great is its delight.” 

“Does Philip find offense therein?” the Queen asked 
with anxious voice. 

“No, far from it. For after the great battle he sent 
for him and embraced him on the field, kissing him on 
both his cheeks, saying: ‘You are more fit to command 
than I, Alexander.’ ” 

“Oh, glorious, God-like son, to have borne him is to 
become immortal. ’Twas foretold by the Gods when he 
was born, Amyntas, that he would do great deeds.” 

“His acts, gracious Queen, foretell his greatness, nor 
need we the oracles to confirm it,” Amyntas answered, 
stooping low to conceal the scowl he could not hide. 

“Tell me, sweet friend, if I do not tire you, how he bore 
himself; what did he do in the very heat of battle?” 

“He bore himself throughout like a great and chival- 
rous soldier, oh Queen. Commanding the left wing, he 
charged the Theban army, leading the way. Breaking 
their array, he scattered their forces as the tempest whirls 
the dust through Pella’s crowded streets,” Amyntas an- 


40 Iskander 

swered, striving to simulate an enthusiasm he did not 
feel. 

“Could not the Sacred Band withstand the Prince? 
For it has ever been held invincible since at Leuctra it 
overcame the unconquerable Spartans/’ the Queen ex- 
claimed, laying hold of Amyntas. 

“Not more than the others, oh Queen. Its center 
pierced, our soldiers cut them down, sparing none.” 

“Did all perish ?” she cried, excited at the thought. 

“Yes, for not one would yield or fly. And so not one 
was left to mourn his fellows or his country’s overthrow.” 

“Gallant, God-like men! Oh, glorious war! Why 
was I not born a man, Amyntas, to share in its brave 
exploits?” she cried, excited by what he said. 

“Nay, you will live in Alexander and his exploits, oh 
Queen, for his greatness is all your own,” Amyntas ex- 
claimed with angry vehemence, as if plucking a laurel 
from Philip’s brow. 

“Yet he is so gentle and loving withal, Amyntas. So 
trustful and true to his friends and plighted word, that 
some sweet nymph might have borne him rather than his 
fierce mother. But go on, what act did he perform after 
the Thebans fled?” 

“Turning to the right like a circling tempest, he at- 
tacked the Athenians on their flank, before whom the 
King was slowly giving ground. Unexpected, his on- 
slaught disorganized their forces and so, after some little 
resistance, they threw down their arms and sought safety 
in flight. Afterwards, as I have said, the King and Alex- 
ander, meeting on the field of battle, Philip embraced 
him, exclaiming that Alexander was the greater general, 
and the more worthy to command.” 


Olympias, Queen of Macedonia 41 

^‘No praise, however great, can overtop his merits. But 
where left you the King and Alexander, good friend?” 

‘‘Philip is with the army arranging the details of peace 
and the dominion of Greece. Alexander meantime has 
gone as envoy to Athens, it being the policy of the King 
to treat the Athenians with every indulgence.” 

“Then we may soon expect their return ?” 

“The King will be detained pending the negotiations, 
but the Prince may be expected any day.” 

“Hasten the hour, that I may again feast my tired eyes 
on his God-like form!” the Queen exclaimed, turning 
away. 

“That is not all, oh Queen,” Amyntas cried, detaining 
her. “For the King bids me tell you that an embassy 
from Persia is on its way to Pella, and it is his wish that 
it be received and entertained with all honor.” 

“I had not heard before of such a mission,” the Queen 
answered, surprised. 

“Nor would you now had we not been victorious. For 
they came to treat with Demosthenes and the other 
Greeks. But we winning, they turn now to us as the dom- 
inant power.” 

“So at last the Great King comes to Pella hoping, by 
diplomacy and Persian gold, to put off the invasion of 
his empire,” the Queen responded, meditating on what 
the other said. 

“So it is thought, oh Queen, and 'tis said, five stout 
pack mules are not too many to carry the gold they 
bring,” Amyntas answered, aroused at the thought of so 
much wealth. 

“Then the miser Darius must indeed tremble for his 
throne,” she exclaimed scornfully. “But tell me, good 
Prince, is there no court news of interest? Who among 


42 


Iskander 


the sycophants bids highest for the King’s favor? Who 
among them is now his favorite?” 

“Attains, above every one, oh Queen. He only has 
the King’s ear ; and because of it, all now pay him court,” 
Amyntas answered, eying the Queen. 

“What! Attains? That monster of treachery and in- 
satiable greed!” 

“Yes, oh Queen. And ’tis said he seeks to build his 
fortune higher by the King’s marriage with his too will- 
ing niece, Cleopatra. But in this I repeat only common 
talk,” Amyntas answered, maliciously. 

“By the Gods, if there be such rumor ’tis false,” Pau- 
sanias here interposed, pale and trembling. “Cleopatra, 
my love! She cannot be such a wanton. Nay, I would 
stake my life on her truth and virtue,” he went on as if 
distracted. But at last observing the Queen’s face to 
darken, he cried: “Pardon, oh Queen, if in my heat 
I plead too strongly the cause of the weak and defense- 
less.” 

“Nay, you waste your breath, Pausanias,” the Queen 
answered, motioning Amyntas back. “The frail Cleo- 
patra, failing to ensnare Alexander, now aims to enmesh 
the King with her lustful wiles.” 

“She stoop to become the King’s mistress! For it is 
naught else. No! I would not believe so base a thing 
were she herself to proclaim it,” Pausanias screamed in 
a frenzy of rage, forgetting the deference he owed the 
Queen. 

“Nay! She aims higher than the office of mistress, 
good friend. Nothing less than supplanting your Queen 
will still the cravings of her mad ambition. Others have 
not been so aspiring. She would pluck me bodily from 


Olympias, Queen of Macedonia 43 

the throne,” the Queen answered insinuatingly, stirring 
the other’s anger. 

“If what you aver be true, oh Queen, I will strangle 
her ere she commit so great a sin. For she is mine, mine, 
and all the Gods of high Olympus shall not snatch her 
from me!” 

“Then you love the fickle creature!” the Queen an- 
swered, as if now hearing it for the first time. 

“She is my blood, my heart, my life. We have been 
pledged to each other since our very childhood. Attains 
knows this well, and if the King be ignorant of it I will 
go to him. For not even Philip shall thus trespass upon 
my honor and happiness.” 

“Restrain your passion, Pausanias. If but a suspicion 
of what you say and think were to reach the King your 
head would pay the forfeit,” the Queen replied, but not 
as if displeased at the other’s speech. 

“I care not for Philip, in such thing, more than a com- 
mon man. Degraded from my kingly rank, I will not 
brook further wrong without my vengeance being 
quenched in his lustful blood,” Pausanias cried, white 
with rage. 

“Nay, you will think better of it after a night’s rest, 
and at the wedding be first to kiss the Queen’s hand and 
wish her joy. Love in Macedonia, Pausanias, dies in 
the hearts of men, however brave, when the King smiles 
upon their mistresses.” 

“My love may die, oh Queen, but a greater passion 
will take its place; a hate that will grow stronger till 
drowned in the King’s blood. If such speech be danger- 
ous I do not ask anyone to hide it,” he cried, overcome by 
his passion. 

“Nay, you may be as frank as you will with me, your 


44 


Iskander 


Queen. And glad I am that there is one Macedonian 
whose love of honor is greater than his craving for place 
or preferment,” she concluded, smiling upon him. 

“Thanks, gracious Queen. You will aid me in pre- 
venting the foul wrong the King meditates?” Pausanias 
cried with supplicating voice. 

“No, good Pausanias, I cannot promise aught against 
the King. But your just wrath enlists my tender inter- 
est. There! Say not another word. When you have 
bathed and supped come to me. Perhaps together we 
may contrive some way. Meanwhile keep your own coun- 
sel, nor breathe aloud speech so fraught with peril to 
your life,” saying which she gave him her hand as if 
in friendship and protection. “Be not too much cast 
down, but go about your business as if nothing troubled 
you. Come hither. Prince,” she went on, turning to 
Amyntas, “I leave you in Pausanias’ charge. He will 
see that you lack no attention or honor in our power to 
bestow. Afterwards, Pausanias, proclaim the names of 
the stricken throughout the city, that the agony of those 
who wait may not be needlessly prolonged,” and inclining 
her head, the Queen entered the citadel, followed by her 
attendants. 

“So the enchantress Cleopatra shot her bolt at you, ere 
she let it fly at Alexander, and now more successfully 
against the King,” Amyntas cried when they were alone. 
“I thought you were wiser than to be caught by the shal- 
low wanton.” 

“The shallow wanton I By the Gods you shall answer 
with your life for so foul a word,” Pausanias cried, white 
with rage, drawing his sword. 

“Nay, forgive me. I did not dream you were so ten- 
der,” Amyntas responded, backing away. 


Olympias, Queen of Macedonia 45 

''I care not what you dreamed. Draw, or I will 
kill you. Quick! The craze is on me,'' Pausanias ex- 
claimed, convulsed with rage, extending his weapon. 
Drawing his sword, Amyntas cried out as he parried the 
other’s furious thrust : “Calm yourself, Pausanias. Put 
by your weapon, for I meant not to offend you.” 

“I care not what you meant,” Pausanias cried, striving 
to run him through. 

“Are you mad, you fool?” Amyntas exclaimed, an- 
gered at the other’s pertinacity. 

“Yes, mad, mad, mad!” Pausanias answered, rushing 
on Amyntas with extended sword, his eyes half closed 
with the frenzy that possessed him. 

Seeing this Amyntas, raising his weapon, struck Pau- 
sanias' sword from his trembling hand, exclaiming : 

“Quiet your mad rage, Pausanias. Go I Pick up your 
sword, for I would not harm you if I could.” 

“I will accept naught from you. I would have killed 
you, and you can do no less for me,” Pausanias cried, 
throwing wide his arms and rushing upon the point of 
Amyntas’ sword. But the latter, letting it fall, clasped 
Pausanias in his arms, crying out : 

“Why die like a coward, my friend, and let the King 
who wrongs you go free?” 

“You are right, Amyntas,” Pausanias sobbed at length, 
his head on the other’s shoulder. “It is he I should slay, 
not you. For it is his importunities that have overcome 
her virtue. I will live, if only to avenge myself and those 
who, like me, have suffered from his brutish passions. 
There! Say not a word, lest I go mad,” and picking up 
his sword he hurried from the fortress. 

“Go, weak man! I could not ask fitter instrument,” 


46 Iskander 

Amyntas exclaimed, sheathing his sword and following 
Pausanias. 

Thus, through the pride and jealousy of the outraged 
Queen and the despair of those Philip had wronged, was 
the first step taken that was destined to lead to such vast 
consequences to the world and the war-like King of Mace- 
donia. 

Seeking her apartments much disturbed, the distraught 
Queen found her favorite, a gentle maid, lying prostrate 
on the floor convulsed with grief. 

“Why do you weep, sweet child?” she asked, lifting 
her up with tender compassion. “Hath word reached 
you of some friend, perhaps a lover, fallen in battle? I 
thought the hearts of our women steeled against such 
tidings; it is a tale so often told.” 

“I weep not for one lost in battle, oh Queen. For that 
is the fate of men. But for Orestes, cruelly murdered,” 
the girl sorrowfully answered. 

“Murdered! Orestes, your brother? By whom and 
when?” the Queen cried, surprised and grieved. 

“By Amyntas as he approached the city scarce an hour 
since,” the maid answered, overcome by grief. 

“By Amyntas I What grudge has he against the gentle 
youth? Surely you must be mistaken,” the Queen ex- 
claimed, striving to soothe her. 

“No, gracious Queen, I have it from one who wit- 
nessed the horrid deed. Nor was he stricken down in fair 
fight, but treacherously, in the open road and before all 
the troop,” she answered, anger overcoming her grief. 

“Amyntas was ever cold and cruel, but I cannot think 
him capable of so foul a deed,” the Queen answered, and 
calling a page she bade him seek out the officer of Amyn- 
tas’ escort and bring him to her without delay. “There 


Olympias, Queen of Macedonia 47 

are other things beside this that I would learn from lips 
less pliant than those of the fawning Prince,” she went 
on as her attendants removed her cloak and hat. ‘‘Why 
said he naught of the deed to me? Oh, he presumes too 
much on his high birth, and Philip’s weak compassion. 
Were I King he should not live an hour to threaten the 
throne and Alexander’s peaceful succession!” 

While thus meditating her heart filled with apprehen- 
sion and hate her messenger returned accompanied by 
Clitus, whom he had found dismounting at the outer gate 
of the fortress. 

“Welcome back to Pella, good Clitus, and with no new 
wounds, I hope, to attest your devotion to the King and 
his august son, the Prince,” she cried, giving her hand 
in love to the hardy soldier. 

“Not so much as a scratch, please you gracious Queen,” 
Clitus answered, dropping on one knee and raising her 
hand to his lips. 

“You are tired and worn from the long march, and I 
am wrong to claim your presence ere you have refreshed 
yourself.” 

“The favor of our Queen is both meat and sleep to 
those who serve her,” Clitus answered gallantly, rising to 
his feet. 

“Ah, Clitus, I fear our soft spoken courtiers are cor- 
rupting your honest speech. But come! Refresh yourself 
with wine and seat yourself beside me, for your devotion 
deserves no less favor,” she exclaimed, motioning her 
attendants to retire as Clitus took the proffered place. 
“Come now, let us talk, and not as Queen and subject, 
but as one good friend to another. But first drink this 
refreshing wine. It is the elixir of your country, and in 
it we will pledge the King and after him the Prince.” 


48 


Iskander 


“To both, together and apart, now and always!’’ Clitus 
exclaimed, rising and draining the deep goblet without 
taking it from his lips. 

“Come! Another cup, Clitus. That did but wash the 
dust from your hot throat, for you have traveled far and 
hard, as your stained armor shows. Nay, you shall not 
have less than the King’s portion,” she went on, filling 
his goblet afresh, “for Philip, when wearied, will not 
stay with less than a full skin of wine; nor always that.” 

“The great bull’s horn, from which we drank when 
I was young, has lost much in size these years, oh Queen,” 
Clitus exclaimed, emptying the brimming cup as he had 
done the other. 

Filling the goblet anew she cried, resting her hand 
on Clitus’ arm: 

“Now that you are refreshed, tell me, good friend, 
what mean these stories flying about the court of Orestes’ 
quick and cruel death at Amyntas’ hand?” 

“What would you have me say, oh Queen?” 

“I would have you answer truly, as ’tis in your heart 
to do.” 

“I dare not, oh Queen,” Clitus answered, fidgeting in 
his seat. 

“Dare not! When I, your Queen, bid you speak?” 

“He is so high in favor, gracious Queen, and the King 
punishes all who say aught against him.” 

“But I, the Queen, Alexander’s mother, Philip’s wife, 
bid you speak.” 

“Let Amyntas be interrogated, oh Queen. It is not fit 
that I should meddle in the matter.” 

“Speak! I command you,” the Queen answered in an 
imperious voice. “If aught follow I will bear the blame.” 


Olympias, Queen of Macedonia 49 

’Tis true then, oh gracious Queen,'’ Clitus, who only 
waited to be thus urged, answered. ‘‘Orestes was stricken 
as you say and by Amyntas’ hand.” 

“What excuse did he give, if any, for the foul deed?” 

“That Orestes was a traitor, oh Queen, and had spoken 
foully of both the King and Prince.” 

“That cannot be, for the Prince writes me concerning 
the youth and in the most friendly spirit,” the Queen 
answered in surprise. “Did not Orestes say aught before 
he died ? Speak ! You shall conceal no part of the horrid 
deed!” 

“Reviving after the cruel stroke, the youth excused 
Amyntas, saying he did it in the heat of passion. But 
in the same breath spoke of the King and Prince with 
tender love, bidding me watch over them as if some great 
danger threatened. Oh, he was basely stricken and with- 
out cause, gracious Queen,” Clitus cried, his anger rising 
at remembrance of the deed. “Or, if cause there was, it 
concerned Amyntas and not Orestes.” 

“I can well believe it; and was he struck down with- 
out warning?” 

“Yes, for lightning could not have been more sudden 
or startling as we looked on, thinking no harm.” 

“The stroke was not to punish, Clitus, but more likely 
to hide the treason of him who gave it,” the Queen ex- 
claimed. 

“It appeared as if given in a passion to satiate the rage 
that filled Amyntas’ heart. This I gathered, too, from 
Orestes’ excuse of the act.” 

“And he bade you when dying to look to the King’s 
and Alexander’s safety?” the Queen continued, reflecting 
on what the other had said. 

“Yes, and with such beseeching eyes and tremor of 


50 


Iskander 


voice that I must believe he thought some great danger 
threatened them.” 

“I would to the Gods it were true in Philip’s case, 
Clitus, and that the blow might not be long delayed. But 
’tis a useless waste of breath, for he hath a charmed life, 
otherwise he had long since been killed by those he has 
betrayed,” she answered angrily. “ ’Tis for Alexander 
I fear, Clitus. For like Philip, he is indifferent to dan- 
ger, shrugging his shoulders with disdainful pride if one 
but mention such a thing.” 

“That is true. Both the King and Prince contemplate 
danger as the eagle looks upon the black clouds that 
gather far beneath him. But ’tis a manly disdain, and 
such as becomes soldiers and kings,” Clitus exclaimed 
with pride. 

“Thus every King of Macedonia has scorned the dan- 
gers that surrounded him, and so not one has died this 
hundred years without suspicion of grievous wrong.” 

“Nor would precaution have availed them. For ’tis 
the fate of those whose heads overtop the others. The 
lightning strikes not the worm that crawls on the 
ground,” Clitus answered sententiously. 

“You know not how I fear for Alexander’s life,” she 
answered anxiously. “And now, more than before, I 
would that you were near him, Clitus, with a stout troop 
of horse.” 

“I would I were, sweet Queen, for here I am entombed 
like a rat, not having even a bone to gnaw.” 

“Have you no orders from the King? Nothing that 
would prevent your rejoining the Prince if I gave the 
order?” the Queen exclaimed, her eyes lighting up. 

“None, oh Queen, and if you but say the word I will 
be abroad ere daylight.” 


Olympias, Queen of Macedonia 51 

^‘Could you find him, if he had set out on his return 
to Pella, do you think?” 

“With my eyes shut, oh Queen, for the road he must 
take a blind man might follow.” 

“And could you start tonight, or were you merely 
boasting?” the Queen went on, her voice plainly beseech- 
ing him to confirm his speech. 

“Yes, and ere the moon has risen, oh Queen. For I 
would not wish the direction of our march known lest a 
trap be set and we fall into it unawares, as Orestes did.” 

“Well, then, tonight let it be,” the Queen cried, laying 
her hand on his. “But take only approved men, Clitus — 
Eumenes, Ptolemy, Hephestion, Seleucus, Antigonus and 
the others. No one not known to be Alexander’s firm 
friend. But hasten, sparing neither man nor beast. When 
you have found the sweet Prince, let your excuse be for 
coming, that I wished to send him greeting and love. He 
need know nothing of your errand, lest he refuse the 
proffer and send you to join the King.” 

“Nay, he would not do that for friendship’s sake, for 
to all you have named he has shown kindness and prefer- 
ence.” 

“I know, and I could not send him a more acceptable 
present than these companions whom he loves,’' she cried, 
her face lighting up at the thought of thus assuring the 
Prince’s safety. 

“I will not fail in reporting your kind speech to those 
you have named, nor lose time in setting out,” Clitus 
answered rising to take his leave. But the Queen stay- 
ing him with her hand, exclaimed : 

“Conceal naught from him concerning Orestes’ fate, 
nor the cause of it. Tell him his mother, who loves him, 
bids him beware of Amyntas and his friends. Oh, the 


52 


Iskander 


very air is charged with murder, Clitus, and the coming 
of the Persian envoys, with their bags of gold bodes no 
good to the King and Prince,” the Queen exclaimed bow- 
ing her head, overcome by fear. ‘‘You see how I am 
broken, Clitus. Tomorrow I shall have regained my 
courage; but tonight I tremble for my son, so fair and 
strong, and so tender of his afflicted mother. For he does 
love me, who suckled him at this breast now so full of 
sorrow; and as he grew in years nursed him when sick, 
encouraged him, loved him and trusted him. My happi- 
ness wrecked, all my life centered in him. But it was not 
always so, Clitus. I was happy when I was young and 
Philip obscure and poor. Then we were lovers, lovers, 
Clitus ! But with growing power, men flattered him and 
encouraged him to sin and women sought him as the 
slimy leech seeks the breast that is full of healthful blood. 
Thus his love died and I, who was once trustful and lov- 
ing, became, as the concubines and wives swarmed about 
me, like a wild beast. They call me ‘The Tigress,’ and 
truly enough. I should have had a colder heart. You 
knew me as I was, Clitus. The blood of my youth, its 
strength and aspirations animate my son. He is not like 
Philip. Ye Gods, spare him to me! My every feature is 
reproduced in him and if he becomes great, Clitus, then 
he will owe it all to me. The mother is ever thus repro- 
duced. The father is naught. Look on Alexander, Clitus, 
and on Philip’s other son, the imbecile! All Philip’s 
strength comes from his mother. His father, Amyntas 
fled his kingdom, offering to barter a part, that he might 
regain what was left. Eurydice, Philip’s mother, was of 
different mold, strong and resolute, not hesitating in after 
days to hurl her son, Perdiccas from the throne when he 
crossed her masterful purpose. It is from this mighty 


Olympias, Queen of Macedonia 53 

Queen that Philip owes his genius and cunning, for you 
see, Clitus, I do not deny Philip greatness though I hate 
him,” she exclaimed sadly. 

‘‘If men derive strength from their mother, what may 
we not hope of Alexander, oh Queen, where father and 
mother are both great,” Clitus interposed contempla- 
tively. 

“Philip, not less than I, has ever sought to build in 
Alexander everything that is wise and great. Till now 
he has had naught to fear, but when at Cheronea he broke 
the Theban ranks, outdoing his father, the coming ruler, 
the King of men, stood revealed to all the world. Now, 
through fear and hatred, those who have been pacified 
will seek his life. And among them most of all Amyntas. 
Philip, too, will become estranged through his intrigue 
with Cleopatra. Then the pampered Princes who haunt 
the corridors of the court like famished wolves will seek 
to strike him down. And Alexander, fearing naught, 
will tread the dangerous path with open visor and uncov- 
ered breast. Lanike, your sister, loved him, Clitus. She 
was his nurse, trusted as myself. And you, Clitus! he 
looked upon as a second Achilles. You are bound to him 
by every tie, and he to you. Hasten to him then, and 
shield him with your strength and cunning. Not from 
open enemies. For these I care not. But from the assas- 
sins who hide their weapons beneath the cloak of friend- 
ship.” 

And clasping both her arms about Clitus’ neck as if to 
bind him to her son forever, she sorrowfully dismissed 
him. 


CHAPTER IV. 


ALEXANDER AND ROXANA. 

Beneath the spreading oaks that clothed the foothills 
of the Othrys mountains, a detachment of mounted 
troops, followed by pack-animals and slaves, was leisurely 
making its way toward the Thessalian plain, glimpses 
of which might be seen through the opening trees. The 
leader, bestriding his horse with easy grace, rode amidst 
a group of officers and pages in brilliant uniforms, seem- 
ingly unconscious of their presence. And it was appar- 
ent, from their unconstrained manner and speech, that all- 
distinctions of rank were, for the moment, forgotten in 
the fullness of life and the romantic nature of the coun- 
try through which they were passing. 

“ ’Tis said,” one of them at last exclaimed, in answer 
to the speech of a companion, “that the Princess Roxana 
goes to Pella with her father, Oxyartes, chief of the Per- 
sian embassy. Did you hear aught of her while in 
Athens?” 

“Yes, and this among other things; that her beauty is 
so resplendent and her manner so captivating that the 
most insensible yield their hearts to her without a strug- 
gle,” Hephestion, the young cavalry officer addressed, an- 
sw’ered. 

“That is a fiction not worth repeating, for every one 
knows that no Persian woman, however obscure, un- 
covers her face before the world,” Seleucus, one of his 
companions, answered amid a general laugh. 

( 54 ) 


Alexander and Roxana 55 

“But the Princess is only half a Persian, for she comes 
from the far distant province of Bactria, where the cus- 
toms of the Persian court have little force. Or, if they 
do, the dainty being, like our Grecian dames, will by no 
means suffer the splendor of her beauty to be clouded by 
a veil.*’ 

“Will she accompany the embassy tO' Pella, think 
you?” Ptolemy, a young officer of distinguished bearing, 
asked. 

“Yes, for she and her father are said to be insepara- 
ble. Indeed, it is whispered among the wise in Athens 
that much of his diplomatic skill is due to her tact and 
happy suggestions.” 

“Who among us has seen the fair enchantress ?” Seleu- 
cus, an officer of cavalry, asked, looking around. “I 
heard that the embassy kept under cover on their ships 
while waiting to see whether Philip or Demosthenes 
would come off victor.” 

“No Macedonian has ever beheld her,” Hephestion re- 
plied. “But her great beauty and queenly bearing are 
the only things talked of among the scented dandies of 
Athens.” 

“What know they of her beauty except from hearsay, 
if she were hid on board the Persian ships?” Eumenes, 
a veteran officer, cried in derision. 

“The embassy passed a week in Athens on its arrival ; 
but straightway they heard of the presence of the King’s 
threatening army in Phocis, then, Persian-like, they hid 
themselves on board their ships ; and this to the utter un- 
doing of the Athenian dandies, for they aver that one 
never tires of gazing on the Princess’ eyebrows ; and that 
beneath the resplendent arches, every eye-lash has such 


56 


Iskander 


witching charm that all speech is lost in contemplating its 
downward sweep,” Hephestion exclaimed. 

‘‘What of her eyes, Hephestion?” Nearchus, one of 
the group, cried. 

“They have such depth and enchantment of life that 
only the deep blue of the unfathomable sea can be com- 
pared to them in beauty and liquid splendor.” 

“And her mouth, romancer?” Antigonus, an elderly 
officer, exclaimed. 

“Its sweetness and dainty upward curve, sure signs of 
amiability and goodness of heart, surpasses all others in 
loveliness, as do her eyes.” 

“By the Gods, Hephestion, the idlers of Athens are not 
lacking in imagination if they have no courage or enter- 
prise in arms,” Ptolemy cried, captivated by the picture. 

“Oh, I have not recounted the half,” Hephestion went 
on. “For still more wonderful stories are told of her 
by the Persian sailors. It was told me by ^schines, that 
with bow and arrow she can split a pomegranate at fifty 
paces, and with the javelin is as skillful as a Cretan sol- 
dier. He said, too, that being with her father in a skir- 
mish with the Scythian nomads, and Oxyartes being 
wounded, she supported him on his horse, and so both 
escaped from the field ; until, gaining, a safe distance, she 
bound up his wounds and continued the flight.” 

“An Amazon!” Seleucus ejaculated. 

“No; a woman of such gentle texture that she cries 
out if you but cut your finger. But in battle a lioness, the 
Persians aver, if her father be threatened.” 

“Does the embassy take ship to Pella, or go by land?” 
Antigonus asked. “For by the Gods, had I such a daugh- 


Alexander and Roxana 


57 


ter as this Roxana, I would not travel abroad in Greece 
without an army to guard her; not 1.” 

'They go by land, the better to spy out the country, ’tis 
thought,” Eumenes answered. “And this at the sugges- 
tion of Mithrines, a renegade Greek in the Persian service, 
and now Governor of Sardis.” 

“I heard him spoken of as a man much esteemed by the 
great King for his cunning and unscrupulous services,” 
Antigonus interposed. 

“The Persian Kings have ever had use for such agents 
at Athens and among the Asiatic Greeks ; but now, Philip 
being completely victorious, the jackals will hereafter 
seek their prey at Pella,” Seleucus exclaimed with scorn- 
ful wrath. 

“Nor will they come empty-handed, but with the vast 
treasures the Athenian wasp, Demosthenes, would have 
handled had Philip lost at Cheronea; but such thing not 
happening, straightway the gold of the great King was 
locked up to be transferred to Pella,” Antigonus an- 
swered. 

“It would appear then that the embassy has two treas- 
ures, Roxana and Darius’ bags of shining gold,” Near- 
chus exclaimed. 

“If the Princess be all they say, Oxyartes, her father, 
must be the most favored of mortals,” Cassander, a young 
officer, hitherto silent, exclaimed with warmth. 

“Yes. Nor is that all; for he is little less than a King 
in his own country, and of such fabulous wealth that even 
Darius envies him his riches,” Antigonus answered. 

“Ye Gods, but Persia’s conquest will afford our Mace- 
donian soldiers rich plunder if all that is told, or the half, 
be true. May we all be there when the goose is plucked,” 


58 Iskander 

Seleucus cried, referring to the projected invasion of that 
mighty empire. 

“ Tis time. For till now our campaigns have yielded 
little but scars, and slaves hardly worth the holding, if I 
except the fat cities of Chalcidice,” Ptolemy exclaimed, 
scanning his battered armor. 

“ ’Twill be different in Babylon and Susa when our 
swords are loosened in their crowded streets,” Seleucus 
answered with animation. 

“ ’Tis said the gold of Croesus, taken by great Cyrus 
when Sardis fell two hundred years ago, is still uncounted 
in Susa’s treasury.” 

“Of wine, too, of fabulous age and richness, there is 
claimed to be no end,” Ptolemy interposed, wetting his 
lips. 

“I would I had a sip of it to slake my thirst, for these 
mountains and plains are as dry as Lysimachus’ stories,” 
Cassander exclaimed. 

“ ’Twill be rich picking, this Persia, and salve many 
an ugly wound,” Ptolemy answered with a laugh. 

“Peace, good friends!” Alexander, who commanded 
the detachment of troops, here interposed in a voice sin- 
gularly low and sweet. “If the King’s wars have yielded 
little to enrich you, they have made Macedonia the head 
of all Greece, and so of the world. Is that not enough 
for a beginning? The other he will compass, and that 
before some of you have grown a beard.” 

“If he conquer Persia, what will there be left for you 
when you succeed him on the throne?” Hephestion ex- 
claimed, jealous of his friend’s fame. 

“ ’Tis a big world, Hephestion, and we know little of 


Alexander and Roxana 


59 


its bounds, save what we hear from the gossip, Herodotus, 
and other travelers,” Alexander answered mildly. 

“But the King will have explored and conquered its ut- 
most limits ere he die, and thus all the glory will be 
his,” rejoined Hephestion, no way appeased. 

“If so, it is his of right, good friend,” Alexander an- 
swered. “For was it not he who fashioned our invincible 
army and plucked our country from the depths of pov- 
erty, to make it the greatest among nations? If he 
achieves the conquest of Persia it is not too great a re- 
ward for services so glorious,” he went on, to the surprise 
of those who listened, for the boundless ambition of the 
young Prince was a thing well known. 

Proceeding some distance without further speech, Alex- 
ander at last reined in his horse, crying to those about 
him : 

“Come, sweet friends, we are but a step from the great 
plain. Let the soldiers dismount and don their armor. 
’Tis a compliment due to our ally, the Tagus of Thessaly, 
and a thing we owe to the heroic dead who once trav- 
ersed this war-worn plain.” 

“ 'Twill serve the better to spread the news of our ap- 
proach, and so the Tagus may show us some hospitality 
when we reach Larissa,” Ptolemy exclaimed, smacking 
his lips as if already enjoying the feast. 

“Nay, that I would avoid, and all other like demon- 
strations on our way,” the Prince exclaimed. “And the 
better to insure this let it not be said that I accompany 
the detachment, but rather that some un-named Prince 
of Macedonia is in command. Look to this, Antigonus,” 
Alexander went on, as he dismounted and gave his 
plumed hat and cloak to a waiting page. 


60 


Iskander 


Alexander, the young Prince, who was so soon to 
shake the earth with the thunder of his battalions, was 
then at the beginning of his heroic career. But so great 
was the mould in which he was cast and so transcendent 
his talent and high his courage and aspirations, that al- 
ready he was the hope of his country, as he was the 
terror of its numerous enemies. 

Putting aside the soft garments he wore, for the more 
cumbrous habiliments of war, the Prince’s form displayed 
in its graceful outlines all the sinewy strength and supple- 
ness of the trained soldier. Of full height, his bearing 
was that of one accustomed to command, and to the con- 
ferring of distinction and honor upon those about him. 
His countenance was amiable and pleasing, blending with 
the comely fullness of youth, outlines that would later in 
life display the strength that only the great of heart and 
mind possess. His full lips, while indicating a vehement 
temper showed also the qualities that cause men to love 
those about them and put trust in their affection and loy- 
alty. The soft tint of youth and health that overspread 
his cheeks, gave to his countenance an air peculiarly at- 
tractive to both men and women. His blue eyes were 
mild and reflective, but when animated by pleasurable 
emotions, assumed a sparkling radiance. In repose they 
had about them the steadfast, unwavering look possessed 
by men whose state constrains them to listen seriously 
and ponder deeply on what they see and hear. But in 
their hidden depths those who observed might discern the 
latent fire that, on the battlefield or in the strife of men, 
blazed forth with a flame so fateful to those he opposed. 
His nose, which above all other things indicates the hid- 
den secrets of men, was prominent above every other 


Alexander and Roxana 


61 


feature, giving to his face an air of commanding majesty 
and force ; a force, it may be truly said, that nothing could 
tire or divert. His forehead, full at the base, sharply re- 
ceded to be lost in the wilderness of yellow hair that 
curled upward and backward in divergent masses over his 
shapely head, like the waving mane of an aroused lion. 

As a man the mighty Prince had many of the weak- 
nesses and passions common to men of our own day. 
But singularly enough for a Macedonian Prince of that 
elastic age, he revered women both in thought and act, 
believing unreservedly in their purity and truthfulness. 
Differing from Philip in this respect his abstinence has 
been attributed to his great pride and towering ambi- 
tion. Whatever may have been the cause it is certain 
that his life in this regard was the most noted and free 
from criticism of all the great men the world has ever 
known. A man of open heart and lavish generosity he 
had, withal, such contrasts of amiability and fierce un- 
governable temper that neither those who knew him nor 
those who have come after, have been able to fathom 
these strange contradictions of his remarkable character. 
At his ease, Alexander’s countenance was singularly at- 
tractive, but when stirred by passion or the strife of bat- 
tle, his eyes became fixed and clothed with such somber 
depths and hostile will that no one could look upon them 
unmoved. Thus stirred, his lips, usually so amiable and 
persuasive, scarce showed their edge; and his chin, firmer 
and more prominent than most men’s, grew rigid with 
the intensity of his passion. At such times his face, be- 
fore enriched with color, became white and tense, his 
brows contracting and pushing forward as if to form a 
cover for the eyes that gleamed beneath. This great 


62 


Iskander 


Prince, unlike his father, despised artifice or indirection, 
preferring ever to attack and overcome his enemies in the 
open field. '‘I will steal no victory,” was his historic reply 
when counseled to make a night attack on Darius at 
Arbela where the supremacy of the world was to be deter- 
mined by the impending battle. In his private relations 
with men and women, Alexander was amiable, trustful 
and loyal ; but in grave affairs of state imperious and all- 
conquering. Of his chivalrous and lion-like courage his 
whole life bears evidence. Without fear, no danger 
daunted him, no risk appalled him. Yet there is no in- 
stance throughout his life of any needed precaution, how- 
ever trivial, being neglected if necessary to secure the 
success of his arms. In his many campaigns and sieges 
his plans were carefully formulated, and this having 
been done, no obstacle was allowed to prevent their at- 
tainment. Such was the character and attainments of 
this great and most chivalrous of Princes. 

Alexander’s armor which he now donned, was no wise 
different from that of his companions, except that it was 
more richly inlaid with gold and precious jewels. Under- 
neath the jointed cuirass of iron that protected his arms 
and body he wore a suit of soft doe-skin, his hands being 
encased in steel-plated gauntlets, richly embossed. A 
broad baldric, embroidered in silk and fastened at the 
waist by a stout belt, supported his straight, two-edged 
sword of Damascus steel. Untanned boots of deer-skin, 
laced high in front, covered his feet and over these and 
about his lower limbs grooved anklets of iron served as a 
further protection. A gorget of mail, richly jeweled, 
composed of scale armor of tempered steel, protected his 
neck and throat. Above this a glistening helmet of iron, 


Alexander and Roxana 63 

inlaid with brass, served as a cover and protection to his 
head. Hinged to this, and projecting from his forehead, 
a visor completely covered and protected his face. From 
out his shining helmet, on either side, there protruded a 
towering plume of milk-white ostrich feathers; and 
these, in the turmoil and stress of battle, like his glisten- 
ing buckler, ever marked his presence and cheered his fol- 
lowers to victory. In complement to the iron-clad rider, 
scale armor protected the front and flanks of Alexander’s 
horse, Bucephalus, worthy companion of so great and 
war-like a Prince. Such was Alexander the Great as, 
having donned his armor, he sprang with graceful ease on 
the back of his spirited steed. 

Apart, and some paces in the rear of the Prince, Clitus 
followed on. Riding hard, night and day, he had joined 
Alexander at Athens, and now being at his ease he be- 
strode his horse contentedly, adjusting its pace to the 
movements of those in advance. By his side rode an aged 
man, who, while he wore a helmet and gauntlets of steel 
with an afYected air, looked, from his gaunt form and 
pinched face, what he was — a pedagogue rather than a 
soldier. But if Lysimachus, for such was his name, 
might not vie with Clitus in deeds of valor, he was more 
than a match for that doughty soldier in fluency of speech 
and fervency of imagination. 

“See!” he exclaimed, as Alexander halted on an emi- 
nence to view the distant plains of Thessaly, “the Prince, 
like a good soldier and a lover of the Gods, stops to look 
upon the plain made sacred by the glory of the heroes 
who have traversed it in ages gone. For here you must 
know, good Clitus, within the compass of our sight all 


64 


Iskander 


the demigods of Greece have passed in their glorious 
majesty,” he concluded with a sniffle of satisfaction. 

‘‘Let the Prince look and dream, oh Lysimachus, but 
what has he, whom no one equals in arms, to learn from 
the shades of the dead, however mighty?” Clitus an- 
swered, turning away as if seeing little in the subject to 
interest him. 

“Over yonder verdant plain,” the old man went on, 
not noticing Clitus’ tone or manner, “Achilles pursued 
his foe, and on that distant height his citadel reared its 
lofty battlements. Where we look, Phoenix taught him, 
as a youth, how to guide his steeds and, afterwards, in 
predatory strife, the problems of the Trojan war,” the 
old man sighed, puckering his lips, as if much of what 
he said was due to his telling. 

“Yours is an oft-told tale, old man. Wait till the Prince 
has traversed this plain with a Macedonian army and you 
will have something worth the telling,” Clitus answered, 
little dreaming that in the near future Alexander, hurry- 
ing from the Illyrian mountains, would cross this his- 
toric field, carrying such terror and destruction to re- 
volting Thebes as never before or afterwards befell a 
Grecian city. 

“Oh you have no more sentiment than a pig, Clitus,” 
the old man replied impatiently, holding up his withered 
hand. “Hark! Can you not hear in the moaning wind 
and sighing trees the far-resounding hoofs of horsemen, 
the clang of armor and the cries of dying men, as they 
rise to heaven from the ensanguined plain?” 

“Nay. I hear nothing save rustling leaves and the 
croaking of frogs in yonder pool,” Clitus answered, mak- 
ing believe he listened. “Did Adam and Eve consort 


Alexander and Roxana 


65 


here, think you, good Lysimachus ?” he went on derisive- 
ly. ^‘Methinks I see the tree from which she plucked the 
forbidden apple to tempt her unstable spouse.” 

“Alas! these echoing mountains will never more re- 
sound with the glorious achievements of the mighty past. 
We must be content to recount Achilles’ deeds, nor hope 
to equal them,” Lysimachus went on, touching his hel- 
met as if it were an ornament merely. 

“Bah I Ever prating of Achilles 1 I’m sick of the very 
name. A laggard; a pouting boy, old man. Our Prince 
sends not his friends to death but leads the way with 
flaming sword,” Clitus answered, snapping his fingers in 
the air. “What has been done in the past, prating old 
man, is as the pucker of one’s mouth to the whirl of bat- 
tles yet to come.” 

“Across yonder silent plain,” Lysimachus went on, as 
if he had not heard, “Xerxes’ myriad host in panoply of 
war proudly entered Greece, only later, in mad haste, to 
clog its mountain passes with their dead as they fled, dis- 
heartened from the pursuing Greeks.” 

“Xerxes, himself, being well in advance, oh Lysi- 
machus, like the prudent man he was,” Clitus interposed. 

“From yonder harbor, scarce discernible, Jason, with 
the brave Argonauts, set sail in search of the Golden 
Fleece. From those beetling cliffs, which you can plainly 
see, Hercules and Perseus met their death ; and but a step 
away, such is the story, brave Pelopidas fell, pursuing 
the tyrant Jason amid the bristling pikes and gleaming 
swords of his distracted army,” Lysimachus went on, as 
his worn eyes scanned the distant horizon. 

“Therein showing himself to be a foolish ass, Lysi- 
machus. For it is no part of wisdom for a general to 


66 


Iskander 


avenge his private wrongs on the field of battle. Thus, 
too, the younger Cyrus lost his life and Persia’s golden 
crown. Our Prince will have more sense.” 

“Nay, he will pass like a shadow doing nothing. For 
Philip will have garnered all the wheat ere he grasps the 
sickle.” 

“Bah! The King is but plowing the ground about the 
homestead for Alexander to sow; and going far, fill the 
annals of all the world with the splendor of his exploits.” 

“Ye Gods, if that be true and it be told that I, Lysi- 
machus, taught him, as Phoenix taught the mighty Achil- 
les!” 

“It will be told of you, old man, that you loved and 
flattered him, but that he was taught strength and wis- 
dom by the princely Leonidas and Aristotle, the plodding 
pedagogue. 

“I not less, Clitus, and if I sought to throw some sun- 
light across his rugged path what was the harm?” Lysi- 
machus answered resentfully. 

“Therein you did well, old man, for he should have 
been taught more follies in his youth, Leonidas was too 
serious. He thought only of Alexander’s body and a 
soldier’s calling. Bah! the Prince should have been 
taught to love and take pleasure in parading his horse 
before the fine ladies of the court! They were far bet- 
ter company than the book-worm Aristotle, or the crab- 
bed Leonidas. Our Prince is too old, too old, Lysi- 
machus, too old for so young a man,” Clitus exclaimed in 
disgust. 

“ ’Tis the burden he bears, not his training, good Clitus, 
that gives him the air of being old. Sorrow is ever the 
heritage of those who rule the savage men and women of 


Alexander and Roxana 67 

Macedonia, or watch the still more savage people upon 
its borders. When every cup may poison and every cloud 
of smoke foretell the invasion of a savage foe, can one 
expect our rulers to look otherwise? It is these sombre 
shadows, Clitus, that lead Philip, the King, to seek in 
wine and the companionship of bibbers and lewd women, 
forgetfulness and oblivion. Alexander is old while yet 
young, and his laughter rings with the sombre thoughts 
of men who have much to expect and more to fear. Were 
he a simple man and not a Prince, he would be a poet and 
student, for thus his mind inclines.” 

“ ’Tis in that way you think of him, say what you will, 
Lysimachus, though you call him Achilles to his face 
in fulsome flattery.” 

“You think of him, Clitus, only as a warrior, born to 
cut and hew men, and therein do him grievous wrong.” 

“What else is there worthy of him, old man? That is 
the serious business of our age. Study is but a means of 
expanding the minds of men that they may be more fit 
to command. You should have seen your poet and scholar 
at Cheronea when, snatching a bugle from a waiting sol- 
dier, he sounded the charge, leading it afterwards with 
headlong fury full upon the Sacred Band,” Clitus cried, 
turning away and leaving the old man to his reflections.* 


*In excuse of Lysimachus’ pertinacity, it is to be said that about 
no other spot in the world does there cluster so many memories 
of the heroic men of antiquity as about the Thessalian plain upon 
which he gazed. 


CHAPTER V. 


THE THEBAN AMBUSCADE. 

Immediately behind the Prince and the officers and 
pages who surrounded him in glittering armor, a squad- 
ron of the Companion Cavalry followed in orderly array. 
The invincible corps to which this body of men belonged 
was made up wholly of nobles and their sons and the more 
opulent landed proprietors of Macedonia and the coun- 
tries under its sway. Armed with long sword, shield and 
lance, oftentimes with javelin, the Companion Cavalry 
was the most formidable body of armed men known to 
the ancient world. Their defensive armor was the same 
as that of the Prince, the front and flanks of their horses 
being also protected by scale armor. Each member of 
this renowned troop, like the knights of medieval days, 
was attended by a squire and one or more slaves whose 
duty it was to carry the weapons and armor of the Com- 
panion and attend to his horse and baggage. Back of 
this troop in the center of the column, the pack-animals 
in charge of slaves, were marshaled. Still further on 
a body of light Thracian cavalry followed. These were 
armed with spear and shield, their horses having no de- 
fensive armor of any kind. Still other troops made up of 
bowmen, darters and slingers brought up the rear. These 
were followed by a motley crowd of soldiers and mer- 
cenaries, whose time of service having expired, now 
sought the cover of Alexander’s arms to regain their 
homes. Mingling with them were vagrant minstrels, con- 
( 68 ) 


The Theban Ambuscade 


69 


jurers, acrobats and strolling players, the mongrel riff- 
raff that ever attached itself to the movement of armies 
in ancient times. These, because of their appetite and 
unappeasable thirst, Clitus aptly called the “Hungry 
Horde/’ 

Reaching the edge of the forest Alexander halted to 
again survey the extended view before descending into 
the open plain. 

“By the beard of Cyclops,” Clitus exclaimed im- 
patiently from the rear, “night will overtake us ere we 
find a fit place to camp.” 

“What place could you find more fit than this?” Lysi- 
machus answered, viewing the extended landscape with 
tranquil unconcern. 

“For you, none, old man; but for horses and men, 
water as well as a bed is needed,” Clitus muttered in bad 
humor. “But what’s in the wind !” he went on, starting 
up. “See, the young war-dogs scatter as if a battle were 
impending and the troops to be rallied to a charge!” and 
hurrying forward he quickly reached the side of the 
Prince. 

“You are in good time, Clitus. What make you of 
yonder body of men hidden from the highway behind the 
grove of olive trees and ascending ground?” the Prince 
exclaimed, pointng to a dark object a mile away. 

“By the eye of Cyclops, ’tis a body of cavalry, oh 
Prince, and heavily armed ! See the glint of their lances 
and the headgear of the horses in the falling sunlight.” 

“They stand at arms and in close array, their spears 
projecting as if awaiting a signal to charge. ’Tis an am- 
buscade, Clitus, and planned for our undoing had we 


70 


Iskander 


descended by the beaten road,” Alexander exclaimed, 
scanning the distant body. 

“But from whence come they, oh Prince? For there 
is not an armed man in all northern Greece save those in 
the King’s service.” 

“They are not men, but the somber shades of those ' 
who have fallen in battle, come back to array themselves 
again in the panoply of war,” Lysimachus here interposed 
with quavering voice. 

“They are neither shades nor Macedonians, gentle mas- 
ter,” Alexander answered, smiling amiably on the old 
man, “but Theban soldiers as you may see, who, fleeing 
from Cheronea, are marshaled anew to give us battle. 
’Tis a brave thought, Clitus, and it shall not be said that 
we declined the challenge,” and turning to Eumenes, who 
remained near him, he cried : “Hasten to Nearchus and 
the others and bid them lose no time in bringing the 
troops forward marshaled for battle.” 

“We shall need them all if my eyes have not weakened 
with age,” Clitus interposed, scanning the distant enemy. 

“How many do they number, think you?” the Prince 
asked, turning his attention anew to the Theban troop. 

“Twenty lochus of sixteen men each, and not a man 
missing, oh Prince.” 

“Thrice our number. But the more glory, Clitus, if we 
conquer.” 

“I would they were twice as many,” Clitus cried with 
savage energy. 

“Do not despise an enemy ere you strike a blow, good 
friend. And that we may do no foolish thing, Clitus, take 


The Theban Ambuscade 


71 


the Thracian horse and, keeping in the shadow of the 
trees, descend into the plain by the beaten road.” 

‘‘Yes, oh Prince.” 

“When the Thebans charge fall back as if afraid, and 
as they follow in pursuit we will attack them on the 
flank.” 

“And so destroy them ! A sweet trap and much to my 
liking save the order to' retreat.” 

“ Twill be for a moment only. When we charge you 
will wheel about from yonder rising ground,” he went on, 
turning to point out the spot. 

“But see, Clitus !” he cried after a moment, surprised, 
“what body of men is that emerging from the cover of 
the trees, where you were to have made the sally? Are 
they phantoms, as Lysimachus will aver, or flesh and 
blood?” 

“ Tis a band of mountebanks and strolling players, 
journeying to Pella, to gather the wealth of our return- 
ing soldiers,” Clitus exclaimed disdainfully. 

“No ! Actors do not travel in such state in these war- 
worn days, but obscurely and afoot, or on half-starved 
asses.” 

“ Tis the remnant of Xerxes’ host and nothing else,” 
Lysimachus interposed anew, his face blanched with 
superstitious fear. “See you not the lumbering camels 
and Persian horsemen with prancing steeds and waving 
plumes? Stir not for your life, sweet Prince, for the 
plain swarms with the shades of those long dead against 
whom your arms will avail nothing.” 

“They are no more the shades of men than the others, 
gentle Lysimachus,” Alexander answered, his face bright- 


72 


Iskander 


ening. ‘‘But the Persian embassy on its way to Pdla. 
And 'tis for them the Theban ambush is planned— not 
us,” he went on, noting the brilliant dress of the Persian 
horsemen. 

“Yes, and see! The outlaws prepare to charge,” Clitus 
cried, as the peaceful cavalcade neared the grove of olive 
trees. 

“And doing so will beat down the Persian defense as 
leaves are scattered by the wind,” Alexander cried with 
angry voice. 

“Look I the gallant band at last discovers the trap and 
group their animals to form a defense. But ’twill be a 
useless labor. Eye of Cyclops 1 See, oh Prince, the craven 
escort already turn and fly. For shame, for shame!” 
Clitus screamed. 

To this outcry Alexander made no reply, but wheeling 
about and facing his waiting troops, cried with impas- 
sioned voice : 

“A band of Theban outlaws from Cheronea attack the 
Persian embassy, a peaceful company on its way to 
Pella! To the rescue, soldiers, in the King’s name!” And 
lifting his spear as a signal to charge he turned his horse, 
and driving deep his spurs, shot like an arrow into the 
open plain. The waiting troops, cheering the Prince with 
one voice, responded with eagerness to his command, fol- 
lowing fast behind amid the blare of trumpets and the 
clang of armor on horse and man. 

“Hold, oh Prince! Nor charge in advance of the Com- 
panions,” Clitus cried amid the thunder of the horses’ 
hoofs, spurring to keep pace with his master. “ ’Twould 
be a foolish thing to be killed by a Theban renegade!” 


The Theban Ambuscade 


73 


But the Prince, making no answer, kept on his way, his 
war horse, as if scenting the battle, increasing his speed 
with every stride. And soon all were left behind save 
Clitus, who, better mounted than the others, and urging 
his horse to the utmost, kept near his master. 

Making such defense as their small number permitted 
the Persian noblemen faced their enemies with cour- 
ageous front. But unavailingly, for the Thebans swarm- 
ing about them on every side, quickly beat down their 
swords and so had them at their mercy. But further than 
this they did them no harm, designing, it was apparent, to 
hold them captives for ransom or, this not forthcoming, 
for such punishment as Theban cruelty could devise. The 
Persian nobles disarmed and put aside, the robbers lost no 
time in securing the frightened animals and the precious 
treasure they bore. Occupied in this way, amidst fright- 
ful cries and the clash of armor and neighing of horses, 
Alexander’s approach was unnoticed by the Thebans 
until he was full upon them. Casting aside his spear as 
a useless weapon where so many were opposed, he drew 
his sword and charged the disorganized Theban band at 
topmost speed, with the cry, ‘Tor the King.” Trampling 
or cutting down all who stood in his path, and as a ship 
forces its way through the foaming waves, he reached the 
center of the throng, his plume waving high above those 
about him, and serving as a guide to Clitus and those who 
followed. 

Reaching the trembling dromedaries, he cleared a space 
with his long and sweeping blade, and doing so, cut down 
a stalwart Theban who sought to tear apart the silken 
canopy that surmounted the back of one of the frightened 


74 


Iskander 


animals. As the Theban fell, a woman’s delicate hand 
parted the curtain and Alexander sav/, not heaped up 
treasures, but a face of resplendent beauty in whose agi- 
tated features despair and fixed resolve were clearly 
shown. Beholding Alexander, and near him the stricken 
Theban, her face lighted, and holding out her arms in 
loving impulse, a poniard, that she grasped, dropped to 
the ground. 

Not long he gazed, for the Theban outlaws, overcom- 
ing their quick surprise, rained blow upon blow on his 
steel-clad armor. Turning and using the cowering drom- 
edary as a shield, he parried with buckler and sword the 
thrusts that sought from every direction to put an end to 
his life. While thus beset, a Theban, watching his chance 
and coming up behind, raised his ponderous blade to 
cleave the Prince’s skull. But Clitus, forcing his way 
to Alexander’s side with ponderous blows, observing the 
outlaw’s action, caught the descending blade upon his 
own. Raising his weapon in return he severed the rob- 
ber’s uplifted arm, the unused weapon falling to the 
ground still grasped in the stiffened hand. 

“You did the like for me at Cheronea,” Clitus cried 
with cheerful gallantry, defending himself on every side. 

“Thanks, Clitus; ’twas a brave stroke,” Alexander 
cried, as he parried a blow with his buckler and, leaning 
far forward on his horse, killed a Theban soldier who 
threatened him with his spear. 

“ ’Tis a merry fight, my Prince, a merry fight!” Clitus 
cried, swinging his broad sword and cleaving the casque 
of an enemy down to his breast plate. “What, smut 
face!” he went on, turning about, “will you have it! But, 


The Theban Ambuscade 


75 


eye of Cyclops, I spare you for Bacchus' sake," he ex- 
claimed, bringing the flat of his sword down on the 
casque of a red-faced Theban who crowded forward to 
avenge his companion. 

Thus the Prince and his companion maintained their 
place undaunted, cutting and thrusting as their enemies 
crowded close upon them. But presently, Hephestion 
joining them, the three made headway against the fierce 
onslaught of their enemies. While thus hotly engaged 
the blare of the Macedonian bugles and the resounding 
hoofs of the approaching horsemen apprised them that 
aid was near at hand. And, indeed, its coming was 
quicker than they thought, for the Theban outlaws, 
already surprised by Alexander’s sudden onslaught, hear- 
ing the trumpets and the fierce war-cry of the Companion 
Cavalry and believing the whole of Philip’s army was 
upon them, turned and fled. 

Freed from his assailants, Alexander’s eyes again 
sought the silken howdah. Its curtains now were thrown 
aside and from out their folds the beautiful face looked 
down upon him, the eyes filled with tears of joy and 
thankfulness. Greeting him with a smile, she detached 
the veil that covered her head and threw it to him as if 
constrained to afford him some token of her gratitude. 
Grasping it as it fluttered to the ground, he raised his 
visor, crying high above the tumult, “Fear naught, the 
King’s arms guard you!’’ saying which he turned and 
raising his sword high in the air as a signal to pursue the 
flying foe, he himself led the charge in person as before. 
Nor needed they such command, but followed swiftly on, 
their hearts filled with fierce rage as they cut deep into 


76 


Iskander 


the Theban band, sparing none. In this way the pursuit 
continued as the day waned, the outlaws turning again 
and again as they saw the small number of their enemies. 
But their courage proving of no avail against the fierce 
onslaught of the Macedonians, the fierce pursuit kept up 
until the Thebans, reaching the dark and tangled for- 
ests of the Enipeus, were lost in its gloomy depths. 

Alexander bidding the trumpeters sound the recall, the 
Macedonians soon gathered about their leader, and rais- 
ing the paean of victory, the exultant soldiers took up 
their line of march for the camp, the fires of which 
showed faintly on the distant horizon. 


CHAPTER VI. 


AFTER THE BATTLE. 

As Alexander and the soldiers neared the camp a great 
outcry was heard a little way off, where a blazing fire 
shot high into the evening sky. 

’Tis the ‘Hungry Horde,’ and with full stomachs 
by the sound,” Clitus cried, with a wry face, tightening 
his belt. 

“Yes; they despoiled the Theban camp ere you were 
half a mile away, and so have both supped and drank,” 
Lysimachus, who had gone out to meet the Prince, an- 
swered. 

“Ours is a sweet revenge on the treacherous Thebans. 
For while they will die wthout an outcry, they cannot 
abide hunger or thirst,” Clitus exclaime(i, thinking of the 
foe wandering in the tangled forest without supper or 
bed. 

“The plunder of the camp belongs of right to those 
who fought and not to those who follow like wolves scent- 
ing prey,” Seleucus, who thought much of the spoils of 
battle, angrily interposed. 

“There was naught but food and wine,” Lysimachus 
answered amiably. 

“What does that matter? Such spoil is much to my 
liking, and the wine most of all. By the Gods, Clitus, 
they shall be scourged by slaves for their impudence.” 

( 77 ) 


78 


Iskander 


“Nay/^ Alexander mildly interposed, ‘‘leave them alone, 
Seleucus, for they are both hungry and thirsty, while 
we have plenty/’ 

“The plunder being plentiful will keep them many a 
day. For the Thebans, who love to eat and lift the wine- 
skin, travel not with empty larders,” Ptolemy exclaimed 
laughing. 

“ ’Tis wholesome to have a good appetite, and thirst is 
not a thing to be despised. I warrant you the wine is 
strong,” Clitus exclaimed, as the voices of the revelers 
became plainly discernible, singing an ancient hymn of 
Bacchus. “I would I had a sip of the stuff, for my 
throat’s as dry as the treasury of Athens.” 

“Let us hasten then, good Clitus, for the Persian 
grandee, Oxyartes, in thankful mood, has sent to the camp 
a dozen skins of his choicest wine, a drop of which I 
tasted ere setting out,” Lysimachus answered, smacking 
his parched lips. 

Word of this abundance presently reaching the worn 
soldiers, there was a joyful shout, which Alexander hear- 
ing, stirred his steed into a gallop. Observing this, those 
who followed clapped spurs to their horses and in an 
instant all discipline was lost in the mad race to reach 
the camp. This had been fixed by the patient slaves, 
near a mountain stream, the Persian camp being placed 
somewhat apart in the open plain. Anticipating an early 
return of the pursuing troops, fires were burning through- 
out the camp and every preparation made for the evening 
meal. This consisted of the Macedonian ration of salt- 
meat, barley-cakes, cheese, olives and onions, and if it 
afforded no great variety was none the less inviting to 


Af ter the Battle 


79 


the worn troops. Reaching the camp they sprang from 
their horses and, throwing their bridle reins to waiting 
slaves, the hungry soldiers lost no time in sitting down 
10 the bountiful repast, washing down the strong food 
with copious draughts of the Persian wine. This they 
drank from tankards of leather or, more primitive still, 
from the ancient bull’s horn of their country. And soon 
their hunger being appeased, loud laughter and joyful 
song succeeded, not less boisterous than that which still 
sounded from the camp of the “Hungry Horde.” 

“There’s nothing like a battle, Lysimachus, and a stub- 
born pursuit, to give one an appetite,” Clitus gasped, 
draining his goblet. “It is far better than watching sheep 
amid the mountain mists,” he went on, thinking of his 
youth. “ ’Tis more wholesome, too, old man, and for a 
burning thirst there is no comparison. By the beard of 
Cyclops, I could love the Thebans for their appetite and 
parched throats, if they were less filthy and regarded the 
truth more. But come, Lysimachus,” he cried, springing 
to his feet, “we must be off. No! not another drop. 
Why man,” he exclaimed, noticing for the first time that 
Lysimachus was far gone with intoxication, “you are 
drunk 1 ” 

“Say not so, Clitus. Have we not cut the enemy to 
pieces and put him to rout, and so may indulge ourselves 
a little? Nor shall we taste such wine again until Babylon 
falls and Persia’s won. ’Tis not wine! But the ambro- 
sia of the Gods. A night is all too short for such a 
feast,” the old man cried in maudlin humor, draining his 
cup. 

“All things in reason, old man. Now we must to the 


80 Iskander 

Prince, who will be furious at your long absence,’’ Clitus 
answered facetiously. 

“Yes, ’tis true, the Prince is irritated when I am not 
near him, and though the pace sometimes tires, I will not 
distress him with complaints,” the other answered with a 
silly smile. 

“ ’Tis clever in you, but come, now for a brisk walk 
in the cool air,” and putting his arm about the old man 
he lifted him to his feet. 

Alexander, meanwhile, on reaching the camp had lost 
no time in visiting and comforting the wounded, making 
such provision for their care as his love for his soldiers 
ever prompted throughout his battle-scarred life. Com- 
ing at last to his own tent he was surprised and grieved 
to find Hephestion with his head and sword-arm swathed 
in linen bandages. Between these two, one self-willed 
and fiery, the other mild and inoffensive of temper, there 
had existed from their childhood the tenderest affection; 
an affection destined to grow in strength each day as long 
as they lived. Others, Alexander honored and treasured 
but for Hephestion he possessed the deepest love, seeming 
to find in his society the restfulness his proud and ad- 
venturous nature craved. Seeing his friend return un- 
harmed, Hephestion, who sat disconsolate, held out his 
hands in welcome, tears darkening his mild eyes. 

“By the Gods, if you are hurt to death not one Theban 
shall live to tell the tale!” Alexander cried in furious 
wrath, bending over the white face of his friend. 

“Nay I my hurts are but trifles, skin-wounds, that will 
be well within the month,” Hephestion answered with a 
faint smile. 


After the Battle 


81 


‘‘I missed you in the pursuit, but thought you had 
stayed to still the Persians’ fright,” Alexander answered, 
kissing him on both his cheeks. 

“Nay, I sought to follow, sweet friend, but ere I had 
gone the length of my horse I toppled over and fell head- 
long to the ground like the weakling I am.” 

“You are no weakling, Hephestion, else I am one. For 
nothing that I have done but you might have done it bet- 
ter. But what leech mended you, for I thought all fol- 
lowed in the hot pursuit?” 

“A woman, Alexander! And such a one as never be- 
fore bound up the wounds of a stricken man on Grecian 
soil,” Hephestion answered, his face flushing at the recol- 
lection. 

“A woman!” Alexander exclaimed, scrutinizing the 
other, thinking his mind wandered. 

“Yes; nor could you guess who she is in a year’s time.” 

“Tell me, sweet friend, for you know I am not good 
at solving riddles,” Alexander answered anxiously, gaz- 
ing upon his wounded companion. 

“This is no riddle, Alexander, for my nurse was no 
other than the Persian Princess.” 

“The Princess Roxana !” Alexander cried, thinking of 
the face that had looked down on him from the silken 
canopy, and wondering if it were she. 

“Yes; and so gentle was her touch and so sweet the 
perfume of her presence that my wounds lost all their 
sting in the delight of having them bound by such soft 
hands.” 

“Tell me, good friend, which was she? Not the 
maiden who watched from the towering dromedary be- 


82 


I s kander 


side which we fought?” Alexander questioned, his face 
flaming at the recollection of the beautiful being. 

'‘Yes, that was she, Roxana herself. Nor could there 
be another like her in all the world.” 

“How did it happen that she attended you? Was there 
no leech at hand?” 

“I know not; only when I opened my eyes as I lay 
prostrate on the ground, she was bending over me and 
searching out my wounds. When I protested she bade 
me keep my peace, and with expressions of joy that I was 
hurt no worse. Her task completed, she hastened to the 
side of my companions, who, like myself, had been 
wounded in the fight.” 

“Did she minister to them in like manner?” 

“Yes, to every one. Nor did she cease until all were 
placed beneath the cover of the tents. Then smiling upon 
us as we lay watching her, she waved her hand and has- 
tened away to minister to her own people. ’Twas such a 
vision, sweet Prince, as man never saw on battlefield be- 
fore, nor will again,” Hephestion answered, raising his 
eyes to heaven as if offering a prayer. 

“You say truly, Hephestion, for I myself saw her as 
she peered down from the back of the dromedary. And 
now not less plainly than then,” he went on under 
his breath. “But rest you here till I return, for I must 
not longer delay my visit to the Persian embassy to wel- 
come them in the King’s name and make inquiries as to 
their needs,” and hastening away, he mounted his horse, 
calling to Clitus and Lysimachus, who approached, to 
attend him. 

Nearing the camp of the embassy, arrayed in glisten- 


Af ter the Battle 


83 


ing armor, the more superstitious cried out on beholding 
him in the bright moonlight, that it was a God. Seeing 
him more closely the Persians raised a shout, and leaving 
their tents, hastened to meet him with cries of welcome. 
Oxyartes, the chief of the embassy, pushing his way 
through the excited throng, threw his arms about Alexan- 
der, crying out : 

‘‘Deliverer and saviour ! I greet and thank you for your 
bravery and timely aid.” 

“You owe me no thanks, good friend, for I but did 
what the King would have commanded in thus discharg- 
ing his vengeance on the outlawed band,” Alexander an- 
swered. 

“Nay, ’tis to you we are beholden. For myself I owe 
you more than life, and so it is that my thanks but poorly 
express the throbbing of my heart,” Oxyartes replied, 
remembering his daughter and the fate that would have 
been hers had she fallen into the hands of the Theban 
outlaws. “Tell me your name, oh Prince! For sure I am 
you are of no less exalted rank.” 

“Ye Gods! Can it be, Clitus,” Lysimachus here broke 
in, “that there lives a man after Cheronea who does not 
know the Prince!” 

“Hush, babbler ! Men are but moles and know not that 
there is a sun,” Clitus answered with a dry laugh. 

“Macedonia has many princes, oh Persian,” Alexander 
answered, “and of such rank am 1. But most of all, I am 
a loyal subject of the King. And you, if I mistake not, 
are Oxyartes, Prince of Bactria, charged with the Persian 
embassy?” he concluded, saluting Oxyartes and the Per- 
sian nobles grouped about him. 


84 


Iskander 


“Yes, most gracious of Princes, and as such I crave the 
hospitality of your country,” the other answered, bowing 
low in return. 

“The very Gods command us to be hospitable to stran- 
gers, and ’tis an obligation the King delights to honor,” 
Alexander answered graciously. 

“Thanks, noble Prince. We expected no less from 
your brave and exalted King. But come,” Oxyartes went 
on, “honor our encampment by dismounting that we 
may offer you some slight refreshment, of which you 
must stand much in need after the conflict and hot pur- 
suit.” 

“Ere doing that, exalted Prince, I anticipate the com- 
mands of the King by proffering you the cover of my 
escort in your further journey to Pella,” Alexander ex- 
claimed with smiling countenance. 

“In the same spirit I accept the gracious offer, oh 
Prince, if I may, without trespassing upon your kind- 
ness,” Oxyartes answered, highly pleased. 

“We go direct to Pella and so will be both accommo- 
dated and honored by the trust,” Alexander replied. 

“In this meeting I see a happy chance, oh Prince, and 
harbinger of success for my mission to Pella,” Oxyartes 
exclaimed with elated countenance. “For I come with 
offers of brotherly alliance and messages of amity and 
love from my august master to the puissant King of 
Macedonia. I am favored above all men in being chosen 
thus to represent the great King, and now, because of this 
day^s happenings, esteem the honor all the greater.” 

“You are most kind, noble Prince. The King, who 
will shortly return to Pella, will there welcome you and 


After the Battle 


85 


strive to make your stay at his capital notable for its 
friendly hospitality/’ Alexander responded. 

‘‘The gallantry of the King’s soldiers leads us to look 
forward to a happy sojourn in his capital. But, ere we 
sup, I crave permission to present my daughter to her 
preserver, oh Prince, that she may thank him in person,” 
Oxyartes exclaimed, looking toward Roxana’s tent, 
where she stood revealed, awaiting his coming. 


CHAPTER VIL 


THE PERSIAN PRINCESS, ROXANA. 

Oxyartes placing his arm about Alexander, as if he 
were a beloved son, led him to where Roxana waited. 
Seeing this breach of kingly etiquette, Lysimachus raised 
a doleful cry and would have rushed forward to inter- 
vene had not Clitus, catching his bridle, bade him be still 
and let Alexander choose his own time for making his 
identity known. 

‘‘Ye Gods, that we should live to see a barbarian thus 
trespass upon the sacred person of our sovereign Prince!” 
Lysimachus exclaimed, scarce able to speak so great was 
his agitation. 

“Peace, old man. The Persian is unconscious of of- 
fense and so there is none.” 

“What ! Not offend by laying hands on the person of 
our exalted Prince, as if they were of equal rank and dig- 
nity ?” 

“Oh you have no sense, Lysimachus. Is Alexander to 
be soiled by the touch, like a bit of dainty satin? By 
Cyclop’s beard, were I King you should cease to talk thus 
or I would send you back to con your studies, unfit for 
the companionship of men.” 

“But what would the King say if he saw himself thus 
demeaned in the person of his heir ?” 

“He would laugh, silly pedagogue, and wish the oppor- 
tunity of such respite from the sycophants of the court 
( 86 ) 


The Persian Princess, Roxana 87 

were his. Eye of Cyclops,” he went on, observing Alex- 
ander. *‘How he blushes at sight of the Persian’s daugh- 
ter! Was there ever another Prince like him! Why, I 
was a forward youth with the sex at ten. But he! ’Tis 
twenty to one he wishes he had let the Thebans work 
their will, so shy is he of women.” 

‘T would he had, if this Persian mend not his man- 
ners,” Lysimachus answered angrily. 

‘‘Bah! He is most amiable, and his daughter of such 
loveliness, that if the Prince but see enough of her he 
will have other thoughts in his head than politics and 
arms.” 

“Look, Clitus! The Princess bends and kisses his 
hand in humble obeisance. That is more seeming.” 

“I would I could see Alexander’s face flame at the 
touch like the red roses of Medius. But come, let us not 
spy upon them. Away to your couch, old man, while I 
look to the sentinels and make provision for the night,” 
and turning about, he set off without further word. 

Meanwhile, Oxyartes, unmindful of offense, led Alex- 
ander to a silken pavilion somewhat apart, where Rox- 
ana stood awaiting his approach with impatient interest. 

This exalted Princess, so well known to students, was 
the most beautiful woman in all Persia, save the wife of 
Darius, the great King. Such is the account historians 
give us. It is related of her that no one could withstand 
the beauty of her face and form, all alike yielding to her 
entrancing presence. Her eyes, according to the mood 
that possessed her, were gentle and persuasive, or, when 
agitated, glowed with the buoyant rapture of an exuber- 
ant life. Her abundant hair, according to the custom of 


88 


Iskander 


Persian women, hung in rich curls about her graceful 
neck, forming a fit setting for so fair a face. Of brilliant 
complexion, her features were animated by a lively intel- 
ligence and such gentleness and kindly forbearance, 
mingled with queenly majesty, that those who knew her 
worshiped her as if she were a goddess. Like all Per- 
sians of pure blood, her face, oval in form, was no way 
different in complexion or features from the most exalted 
type of women of our own day. Possessing every natural 
grace, her bearing had been softened and refined by pro- 
longed visits at the brilliant court of the Persian monarch. 
This frequent intercourse with the splendor and luxuri- 
ous elegance of the refined capital, had heightened the 
grace of her manner and the charm of her presence with- 
out destroying the frank and conventional freedom of 
her mountain home. Such is the account we have of the 
beautiful and queenly woman who now watched Alexan- 
der’s coming. 

Putting his arm about his daughter and kissing her 
with tender affection, Oxyartes exclaimed, his voice 
stirred with emotion : 

“ ’Tis to this brave Prince we owe our lives and all 
else we hold dear. You, better than I, sweet child, can 
express the debt we owe him,” and placing her hand in 
Alexander’s, he bowed low before the Prince, and excus- 
ing himself on plea of the confused affairs of his camp, 
hurriedly left them. 

“We owe you our lives and all we hold dear, brave 
Prince,” Roxana exclaimed in a low voice, and, raising 
Alexander’s hand to her lips, kissed it as if only thus 
could she express the gratitude that filled her heart. 


The Persian Princess, Roxana 89 

^ ‘You put too high a value on the service, gracious 
Princess,” Alexander answered, taking her hand in his 
trembling fingers. “War is our trade, and we did only 
what the King would have commanded had he witnessed 
the cowardly assault.” 

“Nay; you were not thinking of your duty nor the 
King. It was a brave and generous impulse, all your 
own.” And now, looking Alexander in the face for the 
first time, she started back on beholding in him the iron- 
clad soldier who had fought his way to her side and beat 
down the burly Theban who threatened her. 

“ Twas a happy diversion for our soldiers, gracious 
Princess; nothing more. For the result was never in 
doubt and serving you by chance but added to the zest of 
the conflict. It is in such encounters that the King’s 
soldiers derive their happiness and strength.” 

“You shall not thus disparage the act, brave Prince, 
for the Thebans outnumbered you three to one, and save 
for the surprise would not have fled without offering 
serious battle.” 

“Nay; they were beaten ere we struck a blow, for men 
have no hardihood in so base a cause.” 

“I watched as you beat off those who sought to kill 
you. But oh, the weakness of women, and so I was pow- 
erless to aid in any way,” she exclaimed with a sigh. 

“It was your face, sweet Princess, that gave force to 
my arm and that of my companions as the Thebans 
sought to overcome our defense,” Alexander answered, 
drinking in the other’s beauty and coloring at the famili- 
arity of his speech. 

“Ah, you have a sweet tongue, brave Prince, as well 


90 Iskander 

as a strong arm. But did you receive no hurt in the con- 
aict?” 

‘'No, fair Princess, save the harmless bruises that al- 
ways attend such encounters.” 

“I thought I saw a Theban lance pierce your armor as 
you fought below me. And truly, too. For see! Blood 
stains your shoulder and breast.” 

“ ’Tis nothing; a mere scratch; something I do not 
feel,” he answered, striving to divert her attention. 

“Nay, I will not be put off thus, brave Prince, nor let 
another minister to the wound. You owe me this for 
my debt of gratitude to you. Oh do not fear,” she went 
on, calling to an attendant to aid her unloose his armor, 
“for I am skilled in surgery and the use of elixirs and 
balsams. I learned the art in my youth from a Scythian 
woman, long a captive at my father’s court. So that you 
could not have a better leech if you would,” she hurried 
on, giving him no chance to say a word as she skillfully 
unfastened his armor. “Do not crimson, brave Prince, for 
it is not the first nor, indeed, the hundredth time I have 
performed such office. For you must know that I follow 
my father like a faithful slave, and he, being more war- 
like than peaceful, I am often called upon to dress his 
wounds or those of his followers. Nay, it may be but a 
scratch, as you say, but you would make light of it none 
the less. That is the way with princes, who like to be 
thought invulnerable. But their blood is not more red, 
nor their skin less tender than that of the common sol- 
dier.” Thus she went on, and coming presently to the 
wound found it to be neither deep nor dangerous, but 
Still a thing to be feared if left uncared for. Calling for 


The Persian Princess, Roxana 91 

water and paying no heed to his blushes and protestations, 
she skillfully cleansed the wound of the dirt and coagu- 
lated blood that filled the cavity. Then sending for a 
curative salve, she smeared it over the wounded part, 
after which, carefully bandaging the hurt, she released 
him, exclaiming : ‘There, brave Prince, if you will but 
protect the wound with some soft application till the sec- 
ond day, you will not suffer further inconvenience. And 
now that I have had my way, say if I am not a skillful 
leech?” and stepping back, she eyed him with half- 
modest, half-bantering, irresolution. 

“It is as Hephestion avers, sweet Princess. For he 
says that Greece never possessed a leech half so skillful, 
nor one whose touch would cure whether the balsam be 
potent or otherwise,” Alexander answered, scanning his 
arms as if to discover some other hurt. Seeing this Rox- 
ana cried out : 

“No, there is no other wound, though my fee would 
not be greater were there a thousand.” 

“Whatever it may be I can never pay it, nor would I 
wish to. But tell me what it is that I may keep account 
of it in my heart.” 

“Nay, 'tis not hard. For I ask naught save the friend- 
ship of those I serve. Do you own the debt? If not, 
speak quickly, ere I become still more exacting.” 

“ Tis no payment at all, for I acknowledged the debt 
ere you touched my wounded shoulder. But ’twould add 
to the favor if you would promise me your friendship in 
return,” he answered, taking her hand and kissing it, so 
great was his admiration for the beautiful and kindly 
woman. 


92 


Iskander 


‘‘My heart went out to you in friendship when first I 
saw you and neither knew nor cared who you were. Now 
that we are friends you will be frank with me, will you 
not, for that is the first requisite, you know?” 

‘^Yes, in all things,” Alexander answered, enchanted 
with her speech and manner. 

‘Then tell me if all the princes in Macedonia are like 
you?” she asked with mischievous abruptness. 

“I am the least among them, gracious Princess, in ac- 
complishments as in years,” he answered, surprised at the 
question. 

“Then the great King does well to send my father 
hither,” she answered, pondering on what he said. 

“I fear for any resolutions the King may have made, 
once he falls within the spell of your persuasive presence,” 
Alexander replied, gazing into the face of his companion 
with rapt admiration. 

“I come not upon any errand save to attend upon my 
father, oh Prince. But I fear much for my own alle- 
giance to the great King if all your courtiers pay me 
such sweet compliments,” she answered, coloring at Alex- 
ander’s rapt gaze and earnest speech. 

“Beauty and kindliness, sweet Princess, loosen the dull- 
est tongue. Our courtiers are little used to the graces of 
the Persian court, and so you must pardon them in me, 
if their speech be too bold or their admiration too little 
concealed,” he answered, losing all fear of her. 

“I have heard much of your people but knew not that 
their courtiers shamed those of Susa in chivalrous cour- 
age and courtesy of speech. But tell me, gracious Prince, 


The Persian Princess, Roxana 93 

something about your country. Is the King, too, a gal- 
lant ?” 

“His respect and admiration for woman is so great, 
sweet Princess, that it outstrips in ardor the severe cus- 
toms of southern Greece. But if this be true, his mind 
and glorious deeds excuse the fault. The weakness, if so 
it be, is allied to such greatness that it finds pardon and 
excuse therein.'’ 

“You sound his praise most nobly. And Alexander! 
Is he like his father ?” 

“Alexander up to this hour has never seen woman for 
whom he cared. Of this I could swear." 

“That is strange, and is it true that he loves poetry and 
the Grecian dialogues, and at sixteen was regent, and so 
subdued the fierce Thracians?” 

“Yes, he was regent and marched his army into Thrace, 
as you say,” Alexander answered, coloring. 

“I am told he is fair of face and of noble bearing. But 
of this I shall see for myself,” she went on, as if speaking 
to herself. 

“He will be glad to be judged by one so just.” 

“That we shall see. But how happy the fortune, brave 
Prince, that threw us across your path. For you will act 
as our friend at Pella, will you not, so that we may do no 
rude or unseemly thing?” 

“I shall strive to be near you, gracious Princess, and if 
I can lessen your perplexities, I shall be happy in the 
labor.” 

“I was sure you would be no less kind. But does it not 
seem to you, my friend, as if we had known each other 
always? So it appears to me. We will be such trustful 


94 


Iskander 


friends, too, will we not ? And that you may be remem- 
bered and honored by my people for the debt we owe 
you, tell me your name, brave Prince.” 

“I would not have you know it lest your kind interest 
grow cold with the hearing,” Alexander answered reluct- 
antly, seeing in such disclosure an end to all their uncon- 
strained freedom. 

“Nay, that cannot be. One name is not different from 
another where friendship binds,” she replied in some con- 
fusion. 

“Then, if you will not think the less kindly of me, I 
will do as you request,” he answered in a low voice. But 
as he spoke his name the blare of trumpets and the neigh- 
ing of Clitus’ horses, as he busied himself placing a guard 
about the Persian camp, drowned his voice so that she 
heard but imperfectly, and so responded : 

“ISKANDER! It is like all your Greek names, only 
softer and as if full of romance. Iskander, Iskander,” she 
added, dwelling on the name as if she found pleasure in 
repeating it.* 

At last, the evening waning, she took Alexander’s 
hand, exclaiming: 

“Come, let us rejoin my father.” Wrapping her veil 
about her head, she cried : “I think your eyes show some 
spark of wonder that I, a Persian, should so far overstep 
the customs of my country as to appear abroad unveiled 
like the women of your own land. Say, if I am not 
right?” 

*Thus through Alexander’s reluctance to set her right, it came 
about that he became known to Roxana as Iskander; and so to all 
Persia; for even to our day, it is as Iskander, or Iskender, that he 
is remembered in the legends and traditions of Asia and India. 


The Persian Princess, Roxana 95 

‘‘I have heard of such a custom at your court, but have 
always thought it would be an act of grace to disregard 
it. Now, more than ever, I am assured of its impropriety, 
sweet Princess,” he replied, retaining her hand. 

“The custom may never be disregarded by women 
about the court, but I come from a far-off country where 
women are granted greater freedom than at Susa and 
Ecbatana. And so it is that I am able to accompany my 
father untrammeled, and meet my brave preserver face 
to face,” she went on with ingenuous frankness. 

“I shall love your country for being able to be near its 
fair Princess thus unconstrained,” Alexander replied, his 
face aglow with admiration. 

“And I shall be not less grateful for the assurance of 
having you near me in our journey through this disturbed 
country. For I shall fear every clump of trees, after the 
dangers of today, unless, indeed, you are close beside 
me,” and blushing at her freedom of speech, she led him 
to the pavilion of her father, where a sumptuous banquet 
awaited their coming. 


CHAPTER VIIL 


THE PERSIANS. 

“How I love the weak stuff, Lysimachus, after a night 
spent in emptying the wine skins,’' Clitus exclaimed the 
next morning as he filled and emptied his leather cup for 
the third time from the mountain stream. 

“Water! Bah, I crave it not then nor at any time,” 
Lysimachus answered scornfully. 

“Your nose proclaims the aversion, Lysimachus, for it 
has the tint of indulgence fed to foolishness. Fie on you! 
For ’tis such as you that incite the Greeks to call us bar- 
barians,” Ptolemy exclaimed, as he sat watching his slave 
slowly turn a fat hedgehog before the blazing camp fire. 

“ ’Tis not I who give rise to the base slander, for no 
one ever saw me drunk,” Lysimachus answered proudly. 

“No ! You are like a Cretan reed, having length but no 
girth or substance upon which the wine may feed,” Clitus 
answered, yawning wearily. 

“But if over-indulgence cause the Greeks to condemn 
us, what do they say to the sleek Persians ?” Lysimachus 
asked, scanning his lean body. 

“Nothing. For no one ever saw a Persian drunk.” 

“But ’tis not that they drink less than the Macedoni- 
ans,” Ptolemy interposed, pricking the hedgehog with the 
point of his sword. 

“No ! But they sip their wine daintily, the oily, well- 

( 96 ) 


The Persians 


97 


fed men, while we drain the goblet at a draught,” Clitus 
exclaimed, resting his head wearily on his hand. 

“Yes, and so it was that when our brawny comrades 
left the banquet last night, scarce able to keep their feet, 
the Persians were smiling and sipping their wine as if the 
feast were just begun,” Ptolemy exclaimed, eyeing the 
patient slave. “Nay,” he cried, springing to his feet, “be 
not so slow with turning your spit, knave. The fat drops 
in the fire as if it were a thing to waste.” 

“But you remained, Clitus, when the others left,” Lysi- 
machus exclaimed enviously. “I hope you came off 
without disgracing us before the Persian wine pots.” 

“As to that I could not swear, Lysimachus, having no 
remembrance of the time or manner of my leaving,” he 
answered, emptying his cup anew. 

“You had done better to come with us, for 'tis a sign of 
weakness when a guest knows not how he reached his 
bed,” Lysimachus answered with glee. 

“I stayed out of politeness, for our master had eyes 
and ears for no one save the fair maid,” Clitus went on, 
throwing himself on the ground and burying his face in 
the cool stream. 

“For which you should be rewarded by the King,” 
Ptolemy cried in derision as he departed with the savory 
hedgehog. 

“What think you of these Persian grandees, Clitus?” 
Lysimachus asked critically, after some pause. 

“I could find no fault with Oxyartes or Artabazus, but 
of Mithrines and Bessus, the first drank not at all and the 
other only lightly.” 

“I noticed it not.” 


Iskander 


“No, being intent on your own goblet. Mithrines, 
with the white face and cunning eyes, touched not the 
wine, but watched Roxana and the Prince with such a 
devilish leer that I came nigh to smashing my sword 
across the fox’s face more than once,” Clitus answered 
with a scowl. 

“I had some converse with him ere the banquet began. 
He talked most learnedly of Greek literature, interspers- 
ing his conversation with many questions concerning the 
King and his court,” Lysimachus answered grandly. 

“Which you would have done well not to have an- 
swered.” 

“Nay, I paid little attention to what he said. But of 
Bessus? What was he like? For I remember him not at 
all.” 

“He was but an echo of Mithrines, only making great 
pretense of drinking while slyly spilling his wine behind 
the couch. Bah! I would not trust one more than the 
other.” 

“ ’Twas a shameful waste of the Gods’ bounty, Clitus, 
and Bessus is more to be despised than the other,” Lysi- 
machus replied, as if nothing could excuse so heinous a 
fault. 

“They scarce took their wicked eyes off the Prince the 
whole evening, whispering apart, and ever and anon call- 
ing an attendant to go upon some errand which I could 
not but believe concerned our master,” Clitus exclaimed 
with a discontented air. 

“Can they have penetrated his identity, think you?” 

“Yes, but feign ignorance, hoping to take advantage 


The Persians 


99 


of his supposed rank. Bah! I would the two of them 
stood before me with swords in their hands.” 

“That can never be, for their mission protects them in- 
violate,” Lysimachus answered with a learned air. 

“ Tis that enrages me, for they come meaning no good 
to any Macedonian. Surely the King’s honor is not en- 
gaged in shielding such knaves?” 

“Yes, unless they do some unfriendly thing. But did 
not the Prince remark their ill-will?” 

“No; he saw only the Princess and scarce spoke to any 
other. Fie! His bashfulness is all a pretext, for more 
forward Prince never faced a blushing maiden. He loves 
her already, Lysimachus, if eyes be any index to the 
heart.” 

“Nay; ’tis only a distemper, Clitus, and will pass away 
with the night.” 

“ ’Tis a distemper that comes to every man once in his 
life, and often to his undoing. And Roxana, the sly puss, 
led him on betwixt blushes and laughter, as if she had 
never listened to speech of gallant before. Ah, beard of 
Cyclops, what will the King say?” 

“He will laugh, for Alexander’s passion, like his own, 
will vanish with sight of the first pretty face,” Lysima- 
chus answered confidently. 

“No! For the Prince is not like the King more than 
the day is like the night. There is no idle dalliance in 
him, and should he have a passion he will be steadfast in 
it as in other things.” 

“I like not what you say, Clitus, and will go straight- 
way and warn Oxyartes,” Lysimachus answered, starting 
up. L.ofC. 


100 


Iskander 


‘‘If you do, old man, never hope to look upon the 
Prince’s face again. For if he does not kill you he will 
banish you from his presence though you had been a 
thousand times his teacher. ’Tis no business of yours or 
mine. And for the matter of that, the Princess is worthy 
of any man even were he King. I like the sweet woman 
much for her pleasant speech. She told me, Lysimachus, 
there was not a man in all Persia who could wield so 
strong a sword as I,” Clitus answered demurely, scanning 
his stalwart frame. 

“My master will thank me later for the service, eveti 
if he be angry now. It would be differen't, Clitus, were 
she the Princess of another country. But a Persian, 
bah !” and the old man rose to his feet shaking as with a 
chill. 

“If the Prince has a passion for her and you do aught 
to balk it he will hold you in scorn all his life. For if he 
loves her he will put her above all the world. Neither 
state, nor his ambition, nor Philip’s wrath will stay him 
more than the idle wind. What, fool! Have you been 
all these years near him and not know him better! You 
may easier bend this triple helmet than loose his fixed 
will. Begone! Wash your face, old man, and hasten 
to attend him,” Clitus cried, rising to his feet and hurry- 
ing away to arrange for the day’s march. 

Alexander, impatient of his couch, arose ere the voice 
of the whip-poor-will had ceased its call from out the 
grove of olive trees near which his tent was pitched. 
Going at once to visit the wounded, he found them re- 
freshed and cheered by the night’s rest and eager to re- 
sume their homeward journey. Sending Demetrius, his 


The Persians 


101 


chief page, to ask the pleasure of Oxyartes, the Persian 
grandee returned immediate answer that they were ready 
and anxious to go forward. Upon this the Prince gave 
orders for breaking camp, and everything being presently 
arranged, they set off amidst the blare of bugles and the 
loud cries and discordant music of the “Hungry Horde.” 


CHAPTER IX. 


THE WILD BOAR HUNT. 

With the new day Alexander was as one transformed, 
all his former longings being forgotten in his passion for 
the Princess Roxana. Sleeping, her voice had sounded in 
his ears, as her face had filled the measure of his disturbed 
dreams. She, he likened, in his thoughts, not to any other 
woman but to some Eastern houri, told of by curious 
travelers, who forever cast a spell over the hearts and 
minds of those they look upon. Nor was this strange, 
for until now he had thought only of the chase, the mas- 
tery of arms, the wars, and his great ambition. His 
pleasure and recreation he had found in hunting and the 
rugged pastimes that fit men for war. But as the matur- 
ing stalk carries within its uplifted stem the coming 
flower, so his heart only awaited the propitious moment to 
respond with fervent ardor to love’s enchanting dream. 
At last, thinking not at all of such things, he saw Roxana, 
and his heart, before untouched, was all aflame with the 
fire of his love. Not, indeed, as men who have played 
with such things, but with a burning passion before un- 
known. To him the obstacles of rank, the wishes of the 
King, the claims of Macedonia, were as naught. Was 
he not Alexander and so free to choose as his father had 
done before him! And so his passion, like the impulse 
that was to carry his conquering armies far beyond the 
limits of the ancient world, needed no schooling, but 
( 102 ) 


The Wild Boar Hunt 


103 


leaped at once to its fixed conclusion. He saw and loved 
and as the rays of the morning sun lit up the mountain 
heights about him he swore by all the Gods that none 
other than Roxana should be his wife. 

In this mood he sought her out, and she, smiling upon 
him, as he reined his steed beside her own, could not for- 
bear to chide him for his tardiness. 

“You are late in coming, brave Prince, to receive my 
thanks anew for your great service to us hapless stran- 
gers. I feared some new adventure had snatched you 
from us and I should see you no more.” 

“Nay, I did but linger, sweet Princess, that I might be 
the longer near you once I was free. For those who con- 
voy such precious freight must needs look well to its 
safety,” he answered, his heightened color showing the 
pleasure he felt in being near her. 

“I see that sleep has not dulled your gallantry nor 
stilled your sweet speech,” she answered, beaming upon 
him. 

“Not more, with such impulse, than the mountain tor- 
rent is lessened by the steep incline it traverses. The dull- 
est animal is brightened by the cheerful day, and so I find 
reflection of courtesy and wit in your sweet presence.” 

“For shame, oh Prince! Or if you will persist in say- 
ing such sweet things I must needs seek safety on my 
faithful dromedary,” she cried, slowing her horse. 

“Nay! Rather than that I will not speak at all. Or, if 
I do, only of such things as you may choose to have me,” 
he answered, lowering his head as if in acquiescence. 

“Your amiability excuses your fault, oh Prince. Be- 


104 


Iskander 


sides, I must needs make some allowance for the fervent 
gallantry of so accomplished a courtier/’ 

‘‘Nay, sweet Princess, do not ascribe my speech to 
aught save the impulse that calls it forth, for of courtiers 
or their arts I know not a thing.” 

“If that be true you would be an apt scholar once your 
mind inclined that way. But I must still doubt, oh 
Prince, till I can put your sincerity to some test,” she 
answered, admiring Alexander’s spirited steed. 

“I would you might, for I have but one wish, and that 
to please you.” 

“Be not too sure, for it might be some absurd thing; 
perhaps a woman’s whim.” 

“The whims of women, if there be such things, but 
prove the devotion of men,” he answered with fervent 
admiration. 

“You protest too much, oh Prince. But still I would 
try you, and not with any difficult thing,” she answered, 
casting her eyes anew and with fervent longing on Alex- 
ander’s horse. 

“What would you, sweet Princess? No pliant slave, 
bending to the will of an exacting master, could respond 
more willingly than I.” 

“ ’Tis a slight thing and a woman’s whim. Say if I 
speal^ not true, for I would exchange my horse for yours. 
Nay; do not frown, for I will not harm the beast. ’Tis 
only a fancy to try his metal. For of all the gallant steeds 
I have seen since quitting Persia he only is worthy of 
comparison with the Median barbs,” she continued with 
eagerness, scanning Bucephalus’ sinewy strength and 
supple limbs. 


The Wild Boar Hunt 


105 


“Ask aught but that, for no one save myself can man- 
age him, and I only by some trick, I know not what,’' he 
answered, greatly disturbed at her request. 

“ ’Tis as I said, oh Prince,” she cried maliciously. 
“Your sweet speech but covers empty compliments. I 
crave a simple thing, and lo, clouds darken your face, be- 
fore so amiable. Say that you fear I will do him harm, 
or that you have made some vow that woman shall never 
mount his glossy back. Ah! I have guessed aright,” 
and she frowned as if displeased at his refusal. 

“I have, indeed, made a vow that no man shall ride 
him save myself,” he answered, perplexed. “To you I 
would gladly yield if I dare, but he knows no hand but 
mine, and his fierce temper is so unbridled that no one 
can manage him except he wills it.” 

“Do you think so lightly of my skill, oh Prince? I 
thought you more gallant. If you fear for my safety you 
shall keep me company, for my Nysaean horse will easily 
keep pace with yours,” she answered, smiling upon him 
as if he had already relented. 

“Do not urge me, for I would gladly do as you ask, but 
dare not,” he answered, scarce above his breath, so 
greatly was he disturbed. 

“Then never speak kindly to me more, for I will not 
believe you,” she answered, checking her horse as if to 
leave him. 

“Nay, rather than that you shall have your way,” 
Alexander at last reluctantly answered. 

“Now you are again my gentle and chivalrous Prince. 
But quick, let us do the thing ere you change your mind,” 
and, slipping to the ground, she prepared to mount the 


106 


Iskander 


Prince’s gallant steed. Seeing this her father hurried to 
her side to inquire the reason for her dismounting. 

“The gracious Prince consents at last to exchange his 
steed for mine, but loth he was at first to accede to my 
request.” 

“It is because my horse has never been ridden except by 
myself and is thought to be unmanageable in other 
hands,” Alexander answered, turning to Oxyartes. 

“You need not fear, gentle Prince, for there is not a 
horse in all the world Roxana cannot ride,” Oxyartes 
cried with firm assurance. “She has so gentle a voice and 
fine a hand that your steed, however high his temper, 
will readily respond to her will once she is on his back.” 

Thus it was determined and the trappings of Bucepha- 
lus being changed, Roxana was lifted to his back. Re- 
sponding to Alexander’s voice and the caress of his hand, 
the noble steed stood still, nor gave hint of fear or tem- 
per of any kind. And never before, if Alexander’s eyes 
spoke true, had horse borne more lovely burden. 
Supple of figure, Roxana seemed to be a part of the noble 
steed. About her graceful form there clung a loose 
Median robe of purple cloth, fastened by a belt encrusted 
with turquoise set in gold. Her delicate feet were en- 
cased in boots of pliant leather, half hidden by the silken 
garment of Persian pattern that reached to her jeweled 
ankles. Upon her head, as was the fashion of her coun- 
try, she wore a silken turban of brilliant hue, adorned 
with precious stones. Nor was the costume of Alexander 
less inviting, for he, no longer thinking of the Tagus or 
the heroes of other days, had exchanged his armor for 
the soft garments of the cavalier. A rich Sicilian coat of 


The Wild Boar Hunt 


107 


crimson cloth, girt about the waist with a belt studded 
with emeralds, now adorned his person, and from this a 
golden scabbard hung, encrusted with jewels, as was the 
hilt of his long and pliant sword. His lower limbs were 
encased in a closely fitting garment of white cloth, over 
which deerskin boots laced in front reached nearly to the 
knees. His head was adorned with the Kausia, the kingly 
hat of Macedonia, surmounted by snow-white plumes of 
ostrich feathers. Gauntlets of doeskin, embroidered with 
silk, covered his hands, while a short cloak of Tyrian pur- 
ple fell loosely from his shoulders. 

Thus they appeared, as Alexander, reassured, let go 
Bucephalus* bridle and sprang upon the horse Roxana 
had abandoned. At this the great steed, released from 
the spell of his master’s hand, uttered a fearful cry, and, 
raising himself, plunged forward, shaking his head and 
beating the air with his forefeet in frenzied rage. Rox- 
ana, clinging to his back and giving him free rein, 
caressed him the while with voice and hand. Hastening 
to her side, Alexander sought to still the enraged animal, 
and hearing his voice the noble steed dropped to the 
ground as if ashamed. But not in quietude, for, taking 
the bit between his teeth, he sprang forward into the air 
as an arrow flies from the taut bow. At this Roxana, as 
if relieved of all her fears, turned and smiled on Alexan-^ 
der, beckoning him to follow. Thus she sped on with 
slackened rein, amid the frightened cries of her attendants 
and the wonder of Alexander’s soldiers, who knew not 
what to make of the strange adventure. Drawing to one 
side, they made a path, and thus the marching column 
was quickly cleared and the open plain spread out before 


108 


Iskander 


her. Gaining- in speed with each mighty stride, the noble 
animal flew onward, his head outstretched and his neck 
and breast flecked with foam. Urging his horse to the 
utmost speed Alexander sought in vain to overtake her. 
Snatching a spear from a waiting soldier as he passed he 
thought to kill the flying horse if in that way he might 
rescue Roxana from the danger that threatened her. Los- 
ing rather than gaining in the mad race, he sought at last 
only to keep the Princess in view. She, looking back, 
waved her veil as if to assure him that she had no fear. 
Thus she flew forward until at last, approaching a brawl- 
ing stream, she sought not to restrain the flying steed, 
but, giving him free rein, urged him to his utmost speed. 
Coming at last to the brink, the noble animal gathering 
himself, shot into the air and, clearing the wide space, 
landed unharmed on the further shore. Trembling and 
hesitating, as if in doubt 'whether to continue the flight 
or yield, at last, responding to Roxana’s gentle caress, 
he dropped his proud head in token of obedience. Thus 
Alexander found her, tranquilly awaiting his approach. 

“Oh queen of women, in skill and courage, as in grace 
and beauty! You have subdued the horse as you had 
already overcome the master,” he cried with joyful voice. 

“The horse was the more difficult, fair Prince, if your 
speech be not in mere compliment,” she answered, caress- 
ing the noble animal. “See how playfully he throws his 
head, as if in response to the music of a pipe.” 

“ ’Tis sweeter music than pipe or horn that calms him,” 
he answered soberly. “He is yours, fair Princess, for 
you are more worthy to possess him than I.” 


The Wild Boar Hunt 


109 


“No; I will not rob you of so priceless a treasure, gen- 
erous Prince, for all Persia does not hold one like him.’' 

“He, too, is of Persian breed, ’tis thought, having been 
brought to Pella from the Isle of Rhodes,” he answered, 
gazing on the animal with rapt pleasure.* 

“He is worth the ransom of a province, come from 
what country he may.” 

“Yes, but still not worthy of her who has thus con- 
quered him anew,” he answered with gentle voice. 

“Do not venture too far, oh Prince, lest I rob you of 
your steed,” she cried, enraptured. “But, come, let us re- 
trace our steps, for we have gone far out of the beaten 
path and my father will be anxious for my safety,” and, 
gathering up her reins, they descended to the bed of the 
stream, where they halted to refresh their worn horses. 
While thus engaged an angry roar, followed by the sway- 
ing of the bushes that bordered the shallow stream, 
warned them that some savage animal was moving 
swiftly in their direction. 

“Quick, Roxana ! ’Tis a wild boar, having his lair in 
the secluded dell,” and, urging their horses forward, they 
cleared the stream as the front and bristling mane of a 
gigantic boar showed from the underbrush some yards 
away. Reaching the open ground, they looked back, but 

♦History recounts that King Philip gave thirteen talents, 
or $15,000 in gold for Bucephalus. But no one being able to ride 
him, Alexander, then twelve years of age, craved permission to 
mount him and doing so conquered the noble animal. Upon which 
Philip, embracing his son with joy, made him a present of the gal- 
lant steed. Alexander afterwards rode this horse at Cheronea and 
in every one of his great battles until, the noble animal dying of old 
age in India, he named a city in his honor. 


110 


Iskander 


the noble animal, content with having driven them from 
his secluded lair, made no attempt to follow. 

“ ’Tis as I thought,’' Alexander cried, springing to the 
ground and giving his reins to Roxana to hold. “Stay 
here, fair Princess, while I secure the noble animal to 
garnish our evening meal.” 

“Nay, brave Prince, you would not attack him alone, 
armed only with spear and sword? A misstep and your 
life would pay the forfeit,” she cried in fright. 

“ 'Tis with spear and knife that we hunt the animal, 
sweet Princess, and my companions would hold me in 
slight respect if I ran away when armed as I am.” 

“But await their coming, brave Prince, for they must 
reach us ere many minutes.” 

“Nay; that would be to share the glory of the encoun- 
ter,” he answered smiling. “Fear not, but await me here, 
or seek greater safety in the plain.” And whipping his 
spear to test its strength, and loosening his sword as he 
ran, he disappeared in the depths of the undergrowth 
from which they had just emerged. Reaching an open 
glade, he espied the boar fiercely regarding him from its 
edge, but a few steps away. Lowering the point of his 
lance he patiently awaited the savage onslaught, which 
he knew must quickly come. Nor was it long delayed, for 
the huge animal, champing his cruel tusks, losing no time, 
rushed forward with a cry of rage. Alexander, standing 
firmly on his feet, as the huge animal came up, received 
the brute on the point of his spear, burying the metal to 
the head in its quivering flesh. At this, the fierce animal 
swerving to one side, the shaft broke off, leaving only the 
handle in the Prince’s hand. Raising this as the brute 


The Wild Boar Hunt 


111 


turned swiftly upon him, he struck it across the face as 
he sprang to one side. But not in time to escape the sharp 
tusk of the enraged brute, as his torn sleeve and bloody 
arm too clearly showed. Springing back, Alexander drew 
his sword as the savage animal, gathering himself, came 
on anew with eyes of fire, his huge protruding tusks 
lashed with foam. But not now with such swift onslaught 
as before. Sorely hurt, it yet had strength to charge, and, 
coming forward with bent head, again sought to impale 
its foe on its curving tusks. But leaping to one side, Alex- 
ander, watching his chance, buried half his sword’s length 
in the brute’s shaggy side. Disengaging his weapon, the 
blood of the stricken animal gushed forth in torrents, 
coloring the greensward a crimson red. Stricken with 
death, the savage animal would not yield or fly, but turn- 
ing, faced him anew with bloodshot eyes, its feet spread 
wide apart to steady itself for a new attack. But vain its 
courage, for while it sought to gather itself, its huge 
body, rocking this way and that, fell full length on the 
yielding turf. 

“Bravo, gallant Prince! Never was deadly foe more 
bravely overcome,” and, looking up, Alexander beheld 
Roxana’s pale face peering at him from the shrubbery 
that surrounded the open glade. 

“ ’Twas a foolish thing, Roxana, to venture here, for 
the boar would have attacked you had you come within 
his eye,” Alexander exclaimed with some impatience. 

“Fie! I could have fled if need be. And would you 
have me sit still, biting my nails, not knowing whether 
you were dead or not? You ask too much,” she ex- 
claimed with flushed face. “But you are wounded, sweet 


112 


Iskander 


Prince,” she cried, springing from her horse and hasten- 
ing to his side, trembling and affrighted. 

'' ’Tis but a scratch,” he answered, opening his sleeve. 
“But hark ! Our friends are here,” and as he spoke Oxy- 
artes and Clitus rode into the open glade. 

Stopping short, surprised at what they saw, Clitus was 
first to break the silence, exclaiming : 

“Hail, my Prince! We knew not what had befallen 
you, finding your horse wandering aimlessly in the plain 
and the other gone,” and with the words he leaped to the 
ground to examine the stricken boar. “Spear and sword 
thrust! I would I had been here to see,” he cried, scruti- 
nizing the dead animal. 

Losing no time Oxyartes sprang from his horse and 
hastened to his daughter’s side, exclaiming as he folded 
her in his arms: 

“See, my child, how near you were to causing the death 
of your protector by your mad prank!” 

“It is the mighty Achilles come again to earth as I 
have always said,” Lysimachus, who had joined them, 
here piped from out the group. “And ’tis I who taught 
him,” he went on, poking the fallen boar contemptuously 
with his spear as if he, and not Alexander, had killed it. 

“You were ever a brave teacher, Lysimachus,” Alex- 
ander answered pleasantly, in gratification of the other’s 
pride. “But come, let us hasten to rejoin our friends. 
And you,” he went on, addressing the pages who had now 
approached, “devise some way to convey the boar to the 
evening camp to grace the board of our honored guests.” 

“Have all the King’s officers of rank a corps of supple 
pages to do their bidding? The great King himself is 


The Wild Boar Hunt 


113 


not better served!” Oxyartes exclaimed, his eyes dwelling 
on the picturesque youths, with their crimson cloaks and 
helmets of glistening steel. 

“ ’Tis the school in which our young nobles are taught 
obedience and the art of war,” Alexander answered as 
his eyes dwelt with pride on the gentle youths. 

“In that as in other things your war-like King shows 
his great wisdom,” the Bactrian Prince answered as the 
little group set out on their return. 


CHAPTER X. 


THE POISONED CUP. 

‘‘ ’Tis as you say, Clitus,” Lysimachus exclaimed, eying 
Alexander and Roxana. “The forward maiden has 
cast a spell over our Prince, for he has spoken to me but 
once today. 

“The distemper grows upon him fast, for in one short 
night it has become a burning fever.” 

“I thought sleep would have stilled his passion. Nay, 
do not laugh, Clitus, for 'tis a serious thing when such 
as he fall in love.” 

“Eye of Cyclops, the lorn Prince regards not form at 
all, but pursues his love with the ardor of the mountain 
hunter,” Clitus exclaimed as he beheld Alexander draw 
Roxana’s horse near his own. 

“He is like his mother and sets no bounds to his pas- 
sions once they are aroused.” 

“He would never abide opposition when his heart was 
stirred. But, beard of Cyclops, I do not remember that 
love affected me thus in my young days.” 

“I would I might caution him to be more circumspect,” 
Lysimachus answered fretfully. 

“Let him alone. ’Tis better he love this sweet-faced 
maiden than fall a victim to Attains’ niece or some other 
contriving hussy.” 


( 114 ) 


115 


The Poisoned Cup 

^‘Methinks Oxyartes, if he were not blind, should have 
observed our master’s passion ere this,” Lysimachus re- 
sponded with ill-concealed wrath. 

“ ’Tis a wise father, old man, who has the sense to 
shut his eyes when men like Alexander come wooing. 
I would I had a daughter to catch his eye, however far 
apart their rank. For ’twould make no difference and 
soon you would behold me looking over the heads of all 
of you,” Clitus cried, smiling at his own conceit. 

“I would you had, Clitus, for then ’twould be no dis- 
grace to our country,” Lysimachus answered with a wry 
face, turning his horse aside. 

Pursuing their way, Alexander and his companions 
presently coming in sight of the marching column, 
Ptolemy, who was in command, lifted his spear, where- 
upon the whole troop putting spurs to their horses set 
out at a gallop to welcome the Prince’s safe return. As 
the soldiers drew near chanting the national hymn, Rox- 
ana turned to Alexander, exclaiming : 

“Are all the princes of your country thus loved? 
Surely, Alexander himself could not be more honored by 
the soldiers.” 

“They make little distinction in such a matter between 
Alexander and another. Ours is a war-like nation and 
those entrusted with command are more honored than 
in those countries where peace reigns,” he replied, rais- 
ing his arm in salutation to the advancing troop. 

“Secure the land thus favored!” the Bactrian chief 
interposed sadly, contrasting what he heard with the 
spirit of his own country. “For where a people are less 
adventurous, weak subserviency and love of ease quickly 


116 


Iskander 


sap the courage of men/’ he went on as he watched the 
advancing column with eager interest. 

Parting to the right and left the soldiers raised their 
weapons in salutation and having passed, wheeled about 
without slackening speed, and so formed in column behind 
the Prince. And strange sight! each one displayed at 
point of spear or hilt of sword some bit of cloth of the 
color of Roxana’s veil. Seeing this she snatched the 
helmet from Demetrius’ head, and placing it on her own, 
waved the silken veil in fervid thanks for the graceful 
compliment. At this a great cry went up and Alex- 
ander, heeding it, wheeled about and raised his plumed 
hat in acknowledgment of the honor paid his fair com- 
panion. Then lifting his sword aloft, the troop set out 
at a trot, and this presently changing to a gallop, the 
cavalcade reached the line of march with clang of armor 
and thunder of hoof like unto the charge of a victorious 
army. 

‘‘Tell me, brave Prince, how it is you control Bucepha- 
lus,” Roxana exclaimed in admiration as they drew rein, 
“for he answers to your will as if he were a part of your- 
self.” 

“ ’Twas not so at first, sweet Princess. But giving 
way to his caprice, little by little, he came to love me. 
You, discovering the secret, overcame him as you over- 
come the hearts of men,” he answered with eyes full of 
love. 

“Why will you make every little thing the occasion of 
some sweet compliment?” she answered, blushing, but 
not as if offended. 

“If I do it is because my mouth speaks unwittingly 


117 


The Poisoned Cup 

what my heart feels. Those who love, ’tis said, know not 
how to conceal its whisperings, the delight of telling it 
being so great,” he answered as if his passion were a 
thing already known. 

^‘Oh Prince!” 

‘‘Forgive me, sweet Princess. I do but make excuses 
for one offense than I err more grievously than before. 
It were better I said nothing.” 

“Nay, I would not have you otherwise than as you are, 
brave Prince,” she exclaimed with heightened color. 
“But our courtiers have such subtlety of speech that 
frankness has the appearance of being less honest than 
it is.” 

“You shall teach me to soften that which is too frank 
and avoid altogether that which offends by too great 
freedom,” he answered enraptured, taking her hand. 

“Nay, I would have you speak as you think. The 
courtiers of the great King so labor to conceal their 
thoughts that open speech is like the sweet air of heaven.” 

“Thanks, sweet Princess, but if I may judge from the 
looks of yonder Persian, the eyes of your courtiers do 
not seek to conceal their thoughts, however discreet their 
tongues may be,” Alexander answered, glancing toward 
Mithrines, the Persian grandee, who seemed always to 
be hovering near them. 

“Have you observed his forwardness, the Satrap of a 
Satrap?” she answered scornfully. 

“His trappings are worthy of the Persian King and 
so I took him to be some great personage.” 

“His trappings, yes ; but in other things he is unworthy 
of your notice.” 


118 


Iskander 


“Nay, if he be not in your favor that is all I care to 
know. But tell me how he has offended you?” Alexander 
asked, observing her look of distress. 

“By his ungracious actions and evil looks,” she an- 
swered in a low voice. 

“If that be so, how does it happen that he is here, in 
your father’s train?” Alexander asked in surprise. 

“Governor of Sardis, he is entrusted with some special 
mission by the great King and so is without the bounds 
of my father’s control,” she replied with constrained 
voice. 

“Surely, Darius would not knowingly put so great an 
affront on your father, sweet Princess, when he entrusts 
him with events of such importance to his kingdom?” 

“I know not how it is, for the great King loves my 
father as his very life, for, indeed, it is to him he owes 
his life.” 

“His life? Then indeed the tie must be a strong one, 
for the lives of kings are held more sacred than those of 
other men, though they have like value to all.” 

“Yes, and not to be measured if the King be young and 
handsome, and, withal, ruler of Persia.” 

“Tell me what the service was if it be not a secret.” 

“ ’Tis a long story, oh Prince, and I fear the telling of 
it would weary you.” 

“If it be long, so much the better,” he answered, re- 
garding her with rapt admiration. 

“You must know, then,” she went on, giving him a 
sidelong look, “that the lives of our kings in these later 
years have been scarce a span in length ; and all through 
the wickedness of the eunuch Bagoas, through whose 


119 


The Poisoned Cup 

cunning and skill Egypt was recovered to the Persian 
crown. Because of this service Ochus, the great King, 
enriched him and made him a minister about his person. 
But in an evil hour the eunuch, thinking to become still 
more powerful, murdered his noble master, seating Arses, 
a weak Prince, on the throne instead. But the latter, a 
little while after, offending his exalted subject in some 
way, Bagoas put him to death secretly, as he had his 
predecessor. Being now all powerful he caused Darius, 
our present King, to be seated on the throne. But scarce 
a year had passed when Bagoas, possessed with the fever 
of murder, planned Darius’ death as he had the others; 
and poison being the surest agent and occasioning less 
remark than any other, he chose that means of achieving 
his end. But my father being the King’s cup-bearer and 
having spies about Bagoas, discovered the design ere he 
could put it in execution. Bagoas, suspecting nothing 
and intent upon his purpose, caused the fatal cup to be 
prepared and presented to the trusting King, as he supped 
with his court about him. Approaching Darius my 
father whispered in his ear that his very life depended on 
his doing as he said. Darius, staring and dumfounded, 
nevertheless nodded assent, upon which my father called 
Bagoas to approach the King’s couch. Suspecting noth- 
ing he knelt in all humility before the great King, where- 
upon my father with much courtesy of speech — for I 
stood by and heard all — exclaimed, ‘The King, in ac- 
knowledgment of your love and in some requital of your 
long service to the state, desires you to exchange cups 
with him, that his affection for you may be made more 
clear to all the court,’ and ceasing he took the goblet 


120 


Iskander 


from Bagoas’ shaking hand, presenting the King’s to him 
in exchange. At this, turning white and all of a tremor, 
the vile wretch would have declined the invitation, but 
the King, leaning forward, cried in a voice that could 
be heard throughout the room, ^Drink, Bagoas, to your 
King.’ ” 

“And Bagoas?” exclaimed Alexander with impatient 
interest. 

“The wretched creature was not less brave than cruel. 
Seeing that his contrivance had been detected and that 
there was no escape, he raised his head and, looking the 
King steadfastly in the face, drank the fatal draught.”* 

“Alas! poor King, I hope he may not live to regret 
his refusal of the proffered cup,” Alexander answered 
in a low voice, as if foreseeing the distressful life and 
cruel death of this most unhappy of monarchs. “But 
’tis the fate of kings to die like great Ochus, rather than 
upon the field of battle or in their bed, sweet Princess. 
In my own country of its sixteen kings and expectant 
heirs fourteen were foully slain in the fifty years preced- 
ing Philip’s rise. Yet,” he went on, as if speaking to 
himself, “as one generation follows fast upon another, 
each strives for the dangerous honor, forgetful of the 
others’ fate, or boldly daring it.” 

“ ’Tis as if some avenging deity ordained the manner 
and hour of their death ere they were born,” Roxana 

*When Persia at last succumbed to Alexander’s arms, the ward- 
robe of the eunuch Bagoas when brought to light, was found to be 
worth the enormous sum of i,ooo talents, or about $1,150,000 in gold. 
Such is the account of historians. Nothing could more fitly illus- 
trate the riches of Persia or the power and splendor of this astute 
and cruel minister of the great King; a creature bred in the harem 
of the Persian court for a servile office. 


121 


The Poisoned Cup 

answered with pitying voice. “Glad I am, oh Prince, 
that no friend of mine is of the kingly house. ’Twould 
be as if he were already condemned to die. Mithrines,” 
she went on, as if in warning to her companion, “will 
find a favoring atmosphere at Pella if his mission be what 
I fear it is. But see, oh Prince, how the creature scowls 
upon you as if contemplating some foul deed.'' 

“Nay, do not harbor such distrustful thoughts, sweet 
Princess. He can do me no harm, but because he gives 
you annoyance, I will bid Clitus put some sure curb upon 
him," Alexander answered reassuringly. 

“No, no, you shall not meddle, Iskander. For you 
must know I have not dared voice my complaints concern- 
ing him, lest my father's mission suffer and his reputation 
be impaired thereby," the sweet woman answered pas- 
sionately. 

“Fear not, sweet Princess, that your father will be 
harmed by anything I may do." 

“Nay, you shall not act at all, for only harm would 
come of it. He is not like other men, and so it is I fear 
that the great King sends him here. A Greek, he is more 
Persian than my father. Yet at Athens he consorted 
only with our enemies, losing no chance to harm our 
cause." 

“Then he is both traitor to his King and renegade to 
his country." 

“Nor is that all. For last night when the Thebans 
thronged about us, he took no part in the defense, weak 
though it was, but stood some way off, looking on as if 
he wished the marauders might work their will." 

“By the Gods ! if that be true he deserves to die," Alex- 


122 


Iskander 


ander answered, conjuring in his mind the fate that 
would have befallen his companion had the Thebans’ 
attack succeeded. “So great an infamy merits death and 
I will lose no time in having Clitus set a watch upon him. 
It will be a favor he will relish once he knows the man’s 
baseness.” 

“Promise me, Iskander, that you will have no quarrel 
with him. Nay, do not shake your head, but promise, 
if all the kind things you have said were not in idle mer- 
riment,” and reaching out she laid her hand on his, look- 
ing in his face with such earnest pleading that he was at 
last fain to do as she asked. 

Mithrines, as if divining that their speech concerned 
him, now putting spurs to his horse, approached them, 
bowing low on the black Syrian steed he bestrode with 
graceful ease. 

“Hail, fair Princess, and greeting!” he cried with ill- 
concealed anger, “if the seeming danger that threatened 
you, and your pre-occupation with these strangers, has 
not caused you to forget your friends.” 

“The danger I incurred was nothing, or had it been 
this brave Prince was happily near to save me,” she an- 
swered coldly. 

“ ’Tis an old device to put life in seeming jeopardy 
that credit may follow some successful trick in averting 
it,” he exclaimed scornfully. 

“The danger I incurred in mounting the untried horse 
was all my own and despite the Prince’s effort to dissuade 
me from the foolish act,” she answered reluctantly. 

“For which failure it seems he is to be further 
favored.” 


123 


The Poisoned Cup 

‘*Your rude speech is singularly ill-timed, Mithrines,” 
Roxana answered, laying her hand on Alexander’s arm 
to stay his rising speech, ‘Vhere we owe so much and 
have so little with which to repay the debt.” 

‘‘I hope, fair Princess, you do not look upon last night’s 
intrusion as a service, for we should have had little diffi- 
culty in extricating ourselves without meddlesome inter- 
ference from without.” 

“Such speech is little becoming in one who took no 
part in the defense, but stood apart as if afraid,” she 
answered scornfully, beseeching Alexander with her eyes 
to keep silent. 

“If I did as you say, it was only to find some sure way 
of averting the danger afterwards,” he answered, color- 
ing. 

“Yes, and while you pondered we were overcome. But 
others more brave, if less discreet, seeing our distress 
rushed in and we were saved from death. The noble- 
men of Persia are strangers to so much discretion,” she 
exclaimed, looking into Alexander’s face with piteous 
entreaty. 

“ ’Tis a thing never held in high esteem there or else- 
where where those in command, by rash adventure, en- 
danger what they unwisely seek to mend,” Mithrines 
answered, waving his hand towards Alexander. 

“For shame, to give expression to so rude a speech,” 
Roxana cried, her face on fire. 

“Why should you take offense when the object of your 
solicitude seems not to be touched by what I say? But 
perhaps he is only familiar with the rude dialect of the 
Macedonian tribes,” Mithrines answered contemptuously. 


124 


Iskander 


At this Alexander furiously spurring to the side of 
Mithrines, caught his bridle rein, exclaiming in a frenzy 
of rage: 

“Coward and renegade! dare you use such speech in 
the presence of this gentle Princess ! Begone I Nor show 
yourself again till you are called!” and whipping out his 
sword he struck Mithrines’ horse across the flank with its 
glistening side. 

“By the Gods, your speech shall cost you your life!” 
Mithrines cried, drawing his sword and turning upon 
Alexander. But the latter, returning his weapon to its 
place, cried out in derision : 

“Begone, renegade, slave of a Persian master, and 
seek more fit occasion for the display of your valor.” 

“While you hide behind the rabble that follows you,” 
Mithrines cried, scarce able to speak, so great was his 
wrath. 

“You have nothing to fear from them. For we allow 
every latitude in my country to those having a personal 
grievance to redress,” Alexander answered with cold dis- 
dain, returning to Roxana’s side. 

“I shall take occasion ere the day closes to teach you 
to be more circumspect of speech and act,” the other 
cried, white with rage and shame, and putting spurs to 
his horse plunged forward to where his companion, 
Bessus, awaited his coming. 

“Is that the creature you would have me fear, gentle 
Princess?” Alexander exclaimed, his eyes lighting up 
with mirth. “Fie ! the buffoons who beguile the Athenian 
rabble in the market place are more dangerous.” 

“Think not lightly of him, oh Prince, for he is not 


125 


The Poisoned Cup 

lacking in courage. ’Twas he, I more than suspect, who 
gave the Thebans notice of our coming, hoping to gain 
some end thereby and yet escape suspicion,” she answered 
confidently. 

“That I can well believe, but wonder the more to find 
him trusted and in such company.” 

“His part in the embassy is not thought to be to his 
honor, for it is believed he is here to spy upon his col- 
leagues and incite the enemies of Philip and Alexander 
to put them to death. My father has such fears and 
keeps him under watchful care, but Mithrines being his 
colleague he cannot act effectively or make known his 
suspicions to others. I, who am not bound by any rule, 
may speak thus frankly, although I could not say as much 
to Philip or Alexander.” 

“Thanks, gentle Princess, for the warning which I will 
not fail to heed in devising measures to protect the person 
of the King.” 

“And the Prince not less, Iskander.” 

“Oh, he is in no danger, fair pleader, for he has done 
nothing to arouse the fear or enmity of any one. But 
tell me how it is, sweet Princess, that your King entrusts 
so great a citadel as Sardis, the bulwark of his western 
border, to so poor a guardian?” 

“I know not, except that the King is far away and 
must trust some one.” 

“If such men be chosen then weak must be Persia’s de- 
fense,” Alexander answered thoughtfully. “But you are 
wearied, sweet Princess. Let us exchange our horses 
for the sheltered seat on the back of your gentle drome- 


126 


Iskander 


dary. There you may rest and I still keep your company. 
Such journeying will be new to me.” 

“If that be so, it will not be to your liking, for the 
ungainly animals are as rough of motion to those unused 
to it as a troubled sea.” 

“Which I would gladly seek, fair Princess, if finding 
it I might share the discomforts with you,” he cried, 
springing from his horse and lifting Roxana to the 
ground. 

Seating his companion on the kneeling dromedary, 
Alexander placed himself beside her, nor found the seat 
too crowded. Quickly accustoming himself to the awk- 
ward motions of the patient animal he exclaimed as he 
contemplated the picturesque landscape: 

“The view, fair Princess, from this lofty seat well 
repays the discomfort if there were any.” 

“Yes, here one may see the Thessalian plain in all its 
beauty. It is like the valleys of far-off Bactria. But tell 
me of these heights,” she went on, gazing with rapt admi- 
ration on the towering mountains. 

“They are a part of the life of Greece and what the 
Macedonians who were bred among the mountain soli- 
tudes love most of all. That lofty chain,” he went on, 
pointing to the west, “reaching to the north and south 
far beyond the compass of our eyes, is Pindus’ rugged 
outlines. The mountains in our front are the Cambunian 
range, and beyond them Macedonia and Pella lie. The 
snow-capped mountain to the right is mighty Olympus, 
and amid its lofty solitudes the Gods of Greece watch 
over the destinies of men,” he exclaimed, with reverent 
awe. “This way, where the mountain dips, lies the Vale 


127 


The Poisoned Cup 

of Tempe, sweetest of earth’s treasures. Crowding upon 
it from the south is rugged Ossa, the haunt of savage 
animals and still more savage men. To the south and 
bordering on the sea Pelion rears its crest. Before us the 
strip of vivid green, low down on the horizon, marks the 
Peneus, Thessaly’s noble river. There, upon its banks, 
if it please you, sweet Princess, we will fix our camp for 
the night.” 

‘‘Afterwards, sweet Prince, does our course lay 
straight across the mountains or do we make some slight 
detour ?” 

“Tomorrow we follow the winding river through the 
Vale of Tempe to find vessels awaiting to carry us to our 
destination, if that be your choice.” 

“I did not know that Pella lay by the sea.” 

“Nor does it, but on the Lydias, a lazy stream that the 
King has deepened and widened till it has room for the 
largest vessel,” he answered, thinking with pride of the 
great achievement. 

“Did you plan the journey as you describe it from the 
start or is it some new thought?” she asked with curious 
interest. 

“We had intended to cross the mountain, but thinking 
the other less tiresome, couriers have been dispatched for 
ships to meet us, if that be your pleasure.” 

“This change is all on our behalf, not yours. Say ! is 
it not so, gallant Prince?” she cried, her delight showing 
in her smiling conutenance. 

“If it were and it pleases you, would not the comfort of 
our guests be warrant enough for the change? Perhaps, 
too, I had a selfish reason, for in the way I have planned 


128 


I ska nder 


our journey will be somewhat prolonged/’ he exclaimed, 
gazing into her face and striving to read her thoughts. 
But if she were displeased no sign of it showed in her 
smiling countenance. Thus they moved slowly forward, 
saying little, their hands often touching, and ever with 
some thrill of pleasure till then unknown. At last as the 
sun sank behind Pindus’ towering heights the lofty cita- 
del of Larissa came in view. Turning to one side they 
halted some distance from the ancient city and there 
fixed their camp for the night amid the oaks and stately 
beech trees that bordered the banks of the turbulent river. 


CHAPTER XL 


THE MIDNIGHT DUEL. 

Fixing his camp close by the river bank Alexander 
bathed and prepared for the daily sacrifice to the Gods. 
Encasing his feet in sandals, he donned a tunic of snow- 
white linen, crowning his head with a circlet of oak 
leaves. Summoning his followers to the sacred duty, 
they erected a rude altar of stone, adorned with sprigs 
of pine, upon which they lighted a fire. Now, in special 
thanksgiving and praise for the protection and favor 
accorded them, a young bull was brought forward as an 
offering. Cleansing his hands in a silver basin and 
offering a prayer, Alexander sprinkled the sacrificial bar- 
ley on the head of the waiting animal. Then cutting the 
hair from off its forelock he placed it on the fire with the 
kernels of barley. Every preparatory office being now 
completed, Clitus coming forward, struck the animal to 
the earth with a blow on its upraised neck. Ere it could 
regain its feet, Craterus who waited, severed its throat, 
the black blood being caught by Alexander in a silver 
ewer as it flowed from the gaping wound. Holding it 
aloft and asking acceptance of the God, he poured the 
offering on the sacrificial fire. Afterwards the head of 
the bull being severed he lifted it up in like manner as an 
offering. Clitus and the others now flaying the animal, 
the thigh bones were separated and covered over with 
pieces of fat. These, being the portions allotted to the 

( 129 ) 


130 


Iskander 


Gods by sacred custom, Alexander placed upon the fire 
to be consumed, pouring libations of pure wine upon the 
offering. 

The sacrifice completed, the other parts of the animal 
were cut into portions and roasted upon spits, equal parts 
being allotted the waiting soldiers. The evening meal 
being now in order it was attended with indulgence in 
wine, the first drops poured into each cup being emptied 
upon the ground as a libation. In this way, having eaten 
their fill and every sacred duty being performed, those 
who had feasted reclined at length on the mossy bank 
and drank their fill. And in this last the Macedonians 
ever indulged to excess, their habits in this respect being 
the scorn and aversion of the more abstemious Greeks. 

The daily sacrifice was a part of Alexander's life, for 
he ever believed in the protection and guidance of the 
Gods. Not in a bigoted or self-assertive way, it may be 
said, but as a part of his inheritance as a Greek ; for when, 
as emperor of Persia, he was brought in contact with the 
strange religions of Asia, he paid their devotees the re- 
spect of his countenance and protection, but never to the 
forgetfulness of the Gods of his own country. Such was 
the amiable nature of this great warrior and chivalrous 
Prince throughout all his stormy life. 

Separating himself from his companions at an early 
hour, Alexander retired to his tent surrounded by the 
royal pages whose duty it was to wait upon him and 
watch by his bed at night. 

While reclining on a couch discussing with Clitus the 
doings of the morrow they were disturbed by the ap- 
proach of the Persian grandee, Bessus, his cloaked form 


131 


The Midnight Duel 

looming like a spectre in the light of the Pierian torches. 
Clad in a loose Median robe of purple cloth, he stopped 
upon the threshold of the tent and, bowing low, awaited 
speech from the Prince. Seeing him, Clitus sprang to 
his feet with hospitable intent, and passing his drinking 
horn to Demetrius, cried out with cheerful good will: 

‘‘Welcome, noble Persian. You are in good time to 
drink a bumper to our sweet Prince and the God of 
Night,’’ and catching up a cup he filled it to the brim. 
Approaching the waiting guest he sought to lead him to 
a couch, but the other, disengaging his arm and straight- 
ening himself up, answered with little show of courtesy: 

“I come not to drink nor indulge in idle pleasantry, 
but to fulfill a duty that calls for few words, and admits 
of few civilities.” 

“Eye of Cyclops! What manner of man are you to 
thus reject offer of hospitality, be your errand what it 
may ?” Clitus answered in surprise. “But come,” he went 
on, observing the upraised hand of the Prince, “join us 
in a bumper to the great King, if that be more agreeable 
to you.” 

“Nay, I cannot drink with those to whom I bring a 
hostile message even to honor the great King.” 

“Then by Cyclops’ beard, the sweet earth shall have 
what you refuse,” Clitus exclaimed in a towering passion, 
dashing the cup to the ground. Drawing his sword he 
cried: “Quick! tell me your errand, proud Persian. 
You will not find a Macedonian backward in answering 
such a summons, come from whom it may.” 

“Nay, be not so hasty, Clitus,” Lysimachus interposed 
with mild speech. “The Persian has mistaken our tent 


132 


Iskander 


for another. We have no quarrel with him, a follower 
in the train of Oxyartes, our honored friend.’' 

‘^No, there is no mistake if this be the tent of him 
whom you call Prince,” Bessus answered, somewhat con- 
temptuously. 

“Whom we call Prince ! By the beard of Cyclops, in- 
solent dog, I will spit you where you stand if you ven- 
ture further to transgress the dignity of our Prince!” 
Clitus cried, menacing the other with his uplifted sword. 

“Peace, Clitus, let him deliver his message and depart. 
What matters its form?” Alexander answered, without 
rising from his couch. “Go on, Persian, I am listening.” 

“I bear a message, oh Macedonian, from Mithrines, 
Governor of Sardis, a Prince in rank, to demand apology 
or other suitable reparation for the insult publicly offered 
him by you this day.” 

“Do you think, spiller of good wine,” Clitus inter- 
posed, with scornful wrath, “that the exalted Prince will 
bring dishonor on the King by fighting with the Grecian 
renegade ? I were the more fit and will answer when and 
how you will,” he went on, drawing his cloak about him. 

“The noble Mithrines will fight only with the Prince. 
He has no cause of quarrel with the underlings of the 
camp,” Bessus answered shortly. 

“Do you call me an underling ! By the flaming eye of 
Cyclops, defend yourself ere I run you through !” Clitus 
cried, advancing on him. But Alexander, restraining 
him, from his couch, with a word, called to Bessus, ex- 
claiming : 

“Go to your friend, noble Persian, and say that the 
Prince will grant him his prayer within the hour.” 


133 


The Midnight Duel 

‘‘Nay, such a thing must not be. What would the King 
say?’' Lysimachus cried, falling on his knees in supplica- 
tion. 

“He would say that princes, like other men, must 
punish those who insult them, and with their own hands 
if need be. Go to your friend, oh Persian, and when the 
moon shows above the mountain, I will meet him on the 
border of the plain. Let him be mounted and clad in 
armor,” and dismissing the messenger he drank off the 
goblet of wine which he had held until then untasted. 

“By the Gods, ’tis thus you should answer the proud 
Persian. Etiquette and kingly dignity to the dogs, say 
I,” Clitus cried, falling on his knees and kissing Alex- 
ander's hand in rapt admiration. “When you have 
stretched Mithrines on the plain I will do no less for 
Bessus.” 

“No! You have no just quarrel with the Persian, Cli- 
tus. He does but espouse his friend’s cause, and if he be 
rude in performing his office, the offense may be ex- 
cused,” Alexander answered sternly. 

“Nay, sweet Prince, I will give him good cause for his 
own killing. Dead, there will be one Persian less when 
we cross the Hellespont.” 

“No, I would not, for any private grudge, have a Per- 
sian noble missing from the great King's ranks on that 
eventful day,” Alexander answered, springing to his feet, 
as if the conflict were already at hand. 

“Alas, the sorry day that Achilles should draw private 
sword against a lesser foe than the great King himself,” 
Lysimachus piped, in a broken voice, from the couch on 
which he had cast himself. 


134 


I skander 


‘‘Remember, good Lysimachus,” the Prince answered 
mildly, “ ’tis thought I am only an officer of rank, and to 
decline the combat would dishonor both myself and the 
King- 

“But I have only to say you are Alexander and that 
will end it,” the other answered, starting up. 

“But I would not have you to avoid a thousand such 
encounters,” Alexander cried impatiently, thinking of 
his love. “Be still, good Lysimachus,” and turning to 
Clitus he cried, “Arm and mount and I will do the same, 
nor must we keep the Persian waiting.” 

Clitus forthwith taking his leave, Alexander motioned 
the waiting pages to approach and assist him to put on 
his armor. When this was done and his horse brought 
he hastened to join Clitus, who already awaited his com- 
ing. Emerging from his tent Alexander, to his great 
surprise, came full upon Roxana and her father. 

“Our visit is most inopportune, oh Prince,” Oxyartes 
exclaimed, seeing Alexander armed, “and we must crave 
pardon for obtruding unannounced.” 

“Nay, you are ever a welcome guest, but now, oh 
Prince, an urgent matter prevents my entertaining you 
with fitting hospitality,” he answered, taking Roxana’s 
hand and lifting it to his lips. 

“Is there some danger to the camp, gentle Prince, that 
you and the noble Clitus go forth at night thus, armed ?” 
Roxana asked with trembling voice, as if divining the 
nature of his errand. 

“The savagery of the country constrains every one to 
go armed, sweet Princess, though it were only to make 
the rounds of a peaceful camp.” 


135 


The Midnight Duel 

“One were not safe a stone’s throw otherwise,” Clitus 
interposed in further excuse. 

“But your guard, sweet Prince? Surely it should ac- 
company you if there is danger,” Roxana persisted, 
grasping Alexander’s hand in both her own. 

“You do not count Clitus, sweet Princess. What need 
is there of guard if he be with me?” Alexander responded 
pleasantly. 

“Tell me your errand, sweet Prince, for you seek but 
to mislead us by what you say,” she cried, tears starting 
in her eyes as she looked Alexander beseechingly in the 
face. 

“My errand is not one that endangers the life of either 
of us,” he answered, pressing her hand. “Go to your 
tent, sweet being, and let no thought of me disturb vour 
peaceful sleep.” 

“Oh guard your life, Iskander, lest losing it I should 
die of grief, knowing I was the cause,” she murmured 
in a voice so low that only he could hear. 

“I could not lose it if I would, knowing you have some 
interest in its preservation,” he answered, bending low 
over her hand and pressing it to his lips. “Adieu, sweet 
Princess, till tomorrow,” he exclaimed, taking leave of 
her, and mounting his horse waved her a fond farewell 
as he rode away. 

Reaching the open plain, the full moon filled its broad 
expanse as with the light of day. Looking about they 
saw no one, the quietness of the night being undisturbed 
save by the whisperings of the sleeping forest. 

“We are early, or more likely the braggarts have 
evaded us,” Clitus exclaimed, looking about. But even 


136 


Iskander 


as he spoke, those they sought emerged at a gallop from 
the shadows of the trees. “No, by the beard of Cyclops, 
they are in good time. Wait here, my Prince, while I 
fix the particulars of the fight,” he cried, as the Persians 
came to a halt some distance away. Hastening to the 
side of Bessus he exclaimed, as he reined in his horse: 
“We await you, oh Persians, as you see.” 

The other, saluting him, cried out, with little show of 
ceremony : 

“Place your man and I will do the same, the distance 
to be not less than one hundred paces.” 

To this Clitus assenting, Bessus went on in a voice that 
everyone could hear: 

“The fight being on, what conditions do you impose?” 

“There can be none, save that it be to the death,” Mith- 
rines angrily interposed. 

“ ’Tis what I would have asked,” Clitus answered 
grimly. “When the combatants have been placed,” he 
went on, turning to Bessus, “we will meet midway in the 
field, if that please you.” 

“The signal?” Bessus exclaimed. 

“The lowering of my spear.” 

It being thus agreed, they turned, each placing his 
principal in the open moonlight facing the opposing 
horseman. This being done Clitus and Bessus joined 
each other midway of the field as had been agreed. Now 
everything being ready, Clitus lost no time in giving the 
signal to engage. At this the adversaries, with shields 
upraised and spears protruding, spurring their horses to 
the utmost, rushed upon each other with savage fury. 
As they closed with thundering sound the mighty on- 


137 


The Midnight Duel 

slaught bore each rider backward on his steed, the horses, 
stayed by the shock, sinking, quivering, on their 
haunches. The combatants, unharmed, quickly recov- 
ering their seats, raised their fiery steeds with voice and 
spur, and wheeling, charged anew. But without harm 
save the shock, each catching the other’s spear, as before, 
upon the face of his protecting shield. Turning about, 
and Alexander’s horse swerving within the shadow of 
the overhanging trees, a figure darted from the forest 
with uplifted spear to thrust him in the side. Observing 
the treacherous foe in time Alexander received the blow 
upon his uplifted buckler, and keeping on at topmost 
speed ran his assailant through the body. Tearing his 
weapon from the quivering flesh he whirled to find Mith- 
rines close upon him. Bracing himself to meet the shock, 
he received the other’s weapon full on his upraised shield, 
the crushing blow shivering the shaft in Mithrines’ hand. 
Then, as the latter passed, and before he could recover 
his defense, Alexander hurled the bloody spear he held 
aloft full at the other’s glistening helmet. Hitting the 
mark the cruel weapon tore open the closed visor, bury- 
ing its sharp point in Mithrines’ face, hurling him to the 
ground. 

“Thrust him through the throat ere he regain his feet,” 
Clitus cried, seeing his master throw himself from his 
horse and rush upon Mithrines with uplifted sword. But 
the latter, lying still, Alexander offered him no further 
violence, but regaining his spear sprang lightly on his 
horse. Slipping from his steed Clitus ran and kissed his 
master’s hand, exclaiming: 

“Eye of Cyclops, but ’twas a pretty fight!” 


138 


Iskander 


'‘Hasten, Clitus, and see if you can do aught for the 
stricken man,” Alexander cried as he drew to one side. 

"Nay, he does not merit kindness at our hands,” the 
other exclaimed, with a wry face. 

"Overthrown, he is no longer an object of enmity. 
Hasten to him, then, as I say,” Alexander answered 
sternly. 

Going forward as directed, Clitus called to Bessus, 
who knelt beside the prostrate body: 

"How is it with your honest friend, oh Persian ? Has 
he gone to join Pluto’s gloomy throng, or has he still 
some breath left in his treacherous body? 

"He breathes and that is all that I can see,” the other 
answered, without looking up. "Go your way. I need 
you not.” 

"But you are alone and helpless,” Clitus answered, re- 
lenting at the sound of the other’s melancholy voice. 

"I have attendants near at hand,” the other answered, 
and calling aloud in the Persian tongue a slave ran out 
from the shadows of the forest. 

"I thought as much. Be on your guard, oh Prince, 
for these people fight with poisoned arrows,” Clitus cried, 
springing on his horse and releasing his sword. 

"Nay, no harm threatens you,” Bessus answered, look- 
ing up. "I knew naught of the armed man hidden in the 
forest. Nor did the noble Mithrines. ’Twas some pri- 
vate enemy of your master and not a thing of our con- 
triving.” 

"A tale for children’s ears. Come, sweet Prince, let us 
be off,” Clitus exclaimed, gathering up his reins. 

Taking their way toward the camp they passed close 


139 


The Midnight Duel 

to the Persian tents and doing so two figures concealed 
in the edge of the forest hastened away as they ap- 
proached. But not so quickly that Roxana’s graceful 
form could not be discerned as she fled beneath the over- 
hanging trees. 

‘‘ ’Tis the same with King and peasant,” Clitus ex- 
claimed under his breath as he saw Alexander start. 
“Both fall a shaking at sight of the one they love. Yes- 
terday this fiery Prince was like triple steel; today, he 
trembles as any shepherd might if his love shows him 
some favor.” 

Saying naught and musing on what he had seen, his 
heart filled with tender emotions, Alexander rode on to 
the camp, where he found the pages and officers awaiting 
his return. Waving his hand in grateful thanks he en- 
tered his tent and, his armor being removed, threw him- 
self on his couch to ponder on the events of the day. But 
most of all upon his sweet love, Roxana, and the great 
kindness she had that night shown him. 


CHAPTER XII. 


OLYMPUS. 

‘‘Yesterday the noble and puissant Mithrines had four 
attendants, Lysimachus, today he has but three,” Clitus 
cried the succeeding morning as he busied himself bright- 
ening his armor before Alexander’s tent. 

“You were ever curious about small things, Clitus, 
and foolishly,” the other answered coldly, as if it were a 
weakness he despised. 

“But wisely in this case, old man.” 

“Why more wisely now than at another time?” 

“Because it is a thing that concerns the Prince,” Clitus 
replied, straining his voice. 

“The Prince! How can the number of the Persian’s 
servants concern him?” 

“You would not be the wiser if I told you,” the other 
answered dryly. 

“Tell me, good Clitus, and judge afterwards,” Lysi- 
machus cried, his pride aroused. 

“Oh, ’tis a small matter and you despise such foolish- 
ness.” 

“Tell me for all that, good Clitus.” 

“Well,” Clitus went on in a loud voice, “Eumenes, 
captain of the watch guarding the Persian encampment, 
reports that three armed attendants followed Mithrines 
and Bessus to the plain last night, but that only two re- 
turned and they bearing the stricken Mithrines.” 

( 140 ) 


141 


Olympus 

‘Well, what of it, save that Mithrines had been 
wounded by the Prince?” Lysimachus asked, losing in- 
terest in the story. 

“Afterwards, the two attendants left the camp as be- 
fore and Eumenes, being curious to know their errand, 
followed on. Reaching the open plain they stopped be- 
side the body of the missing man, who lay outstretched 
in the shadow of the trees.” 

“Well! Well!” 

“Taking up the body they carried it to the river bank, 
and depositing it, offered up a prayer. Afterwards, lift- 
ing the body, they hurled it into the swift running stream. 
Then a singular thing happened, Lysimachus, for as the 
body shot through the air, it uttered a frightful cry.” 

“The man was alive!” Lysimachus exclaimed, shud- 
dering. 

“So it appeared to Eumenes, but ere he could move or 
speak, the swift current sucked the body down into its 
black depths.” 

“What did Eumenes do then?” 

“Nothing, and why should he? What is a follower of 
Mithrines more or less, Lysimachus? Moreover, his 
orders are to guard the Persians and not meddle with 
their pastimes.” 

“Was that all?” Lysimachus asked, only half satisfied. 

“Yes, except that he reports, and this is curious, that 
the attendants of the noble Mithrines are neither Persians 
nor Greeks, but Macedonians.” 

“Macedonians! How does he know that?” Lysi- 
machus rejoined, his curiosity excited anew. 

“By their speech,” Clitus replied, yawning as if tired 


142 


Iskander 


of the subject, ^‘for it is that of the mountaineers about 
Bermius, so Eumenes reports/' 

‘‘And he having so reported, Clitus," Alexander ex- 
claimed sternly, emerging from his tent and confronting 
the gossips, “and you having now told it to Lysimachus, 
let the matter go no further. The reason does not matter. 
Be silent and forget that you have heard the story," say- 
ing which, he smiled amiably on his faithful friends and 
fastening his cloak took his way to the Persian encamp- 
ment. 

“What mishap was it that befell the attendant in the 
plain, think you, Clitus?" Lysimachus continued queru- 
lously, as Alexander disappeared. 

“Heard you not what the Prince said, oh babbler 1 
Shame on you, Lysimachus, that you should speak of the 
matter further," and fastening his cloak about him as 
Alexander had done he walked away. 

Approaching the Persian encampment Alexander 
found Roxana awaiting him at the entrance to her tent. 
Taking his hands in hers she looked in his face, exclaim- 
ing as if in mirth, while a sob filled her throat : 

“Was it kind in you, noble Prince, to seek to mislead 
me in so serious a thing?" 

“ 'Twas not a serious thing, sweet Princess, nor worth 
the telling ; and so it has turned out," he answered lightly, 
as he bent over her hand and kissed it. 

“ ’Twas a danger and the more to be feared because 
the forerunner of others from the same hand," she an- 
swered in a troubled voice. 

“Such dangers are a part of the lives of men, Roxana, 
and not things to be feared or brooded over." 


143 


Olympus 

‘‘No! if they come from an open foe. Such dangers 
men boldly face, but a hidden and treacherous enemy! 
Who can hope always to escape him when death may lie 
in every bush or tree you pass?” 

“Men do not regard such dangers more than others, 
and now that I am forewarned, there is no further cause 
to fear, sweet Princess.” 

“I shall fear for your life just the same, oh Prince, for 
women ever tremble for those they hold dear, if by chance 
their lives are threatened.” 

“Is it thus you hold my life, sweet Princess ?” he cried, 
enraptured. “Danger, if it bring such sweet solace, is 
not a thing to shun, but to meet with open arms.” 

“Is it strange that your life should be dear to me, as it 
is to my father, after what has happened ?” she answered 
in excuse. “A day is sometimes like a thousand years 
in one’s life, and so it is now, in ours.” 

“Thus I have thought, for, though I have known you 
but a day, everything is changed and what went before 
is as if it were a dream.” 

“No, it is now you dream, Iskander. Tomorrow you 
will awake and smile when you recall today,” she an- 
swered with mournful cadence. 

“But if I should not, will you still look upon me with 
some favor? for I cannot live otherwise.” 

“Nay, rather than that I would promise anything, for 
you know, we cannot lose our brave protector,” she an- 
swered, smiling. 

While they were thus half confessing their love Oxyar- 
tes approached, and seeing Alexander, hastened to him, 
exclaiming with much embarrassment of speech : 


144 


Iskander 


‘‘I have just come from your tent, brave Prince, where 
I went to offer excuse and humble apology for last night’s 
happening.” 

‘^You owe me neither excuse nor apology, good friend. 
No harm came from it and so it is a thing already for- 
gotten.” 

^^So brave men ever treat such matters. But your for- 
bearance does not lessen the breach of hospitality and 
’tis the greater shame to me that it should have happened 
under cover and without my knowledge,” Oxyartes an- 
swered, embracing Alexander in gratitude. 

held you blameless, nor could you be accountable 
for the acts of others in this case more than in another.” 

*‘You are generous in this, oh Prince, as you are chival- 
rous in all your acts. Were Mithrines amenable to me, 
I should dismiss him within the hour. But as it is I can 
only make humble excuse for the gross affront.” 

“The adventure ending happily, we are the better 
friends because of it. Is it then a thing to be regretted, 
oh Prince?” Alexander answered smiling. 

“Mithrines was justly punished for he can scarce lift 
his head from his couch. Because of this, brave Prince, 
I come to ask that the march be delayed until the mor- 
row. If he is then unable to proceed,” Oxyartes went on 
with warmth, “I will leave him to his own devices.” 

“There is no cause for haste, oh Prince, and I am 
glad of the excuse for tarrying,” Alexander answered, 
glancing at Roxana. “And today, being free, I may go 
forward and make inquiries regarding the ships that 
await us on the coast.” 

“May we not keep you company part of the way, oh 


145 


Olympus 

Prince?” Roxana asked appealingly. ‘‘It would be better 
than staying here, for after last night’s happening the 
camp is hateful to me.” 

“I would have planned it thus had I been less stupid, 
and I pray, Oxyartes,” he went on, appealing to the 
Bactrian chief, “that you do as she requests.” 

“Nay, brave Prince, I cannot absent myself from the 
camp. But Roxana may accompany you if it will give 
her pleasure and not embarrass you in any way,” Oxyar- 
tes answered, kissing his daughter. 

“Her going will inconvenience no one, and will lessen 
the regret I have at leaving you behind,” Alexander an- 
swered courteously. 

“When do you set out?” Roxana interposed, unable to 
restrain her impatience. “For I already anticipate all the 
happiness of the excursion.” 

“In an hour, if that be your pleasure.” 

“Adieu till then,” she exclaimed, smiling upon him and 
hurrying into her tent. 

Returning to his camp, Alexander rpade all needed 
arrangements for the journey and the guard being col- 
lected he sprang upon his horse. Seeing this Lysimachus, 
who was not included in the company, set up a doleful 
cry: 

“Am I to be left behind, sweet Prince, while others 
less worthy ride by your side?” 

“You are better here, old man, for the journey may 
savor of danger once the pass is entered,” Clitus spoke 
up impatiently. 

“Was not Phoenix with Achilles at the siege of Troy, 
and am I to be left behind where naught threatens save 
Clitus’ fears ?” Lysimachus cried, appealing to the Prince. 


146 


Iskander 


‘‘Let the good master go, Clitus, if he has a mind. 
But arm yourself, Lysimachus, if only to do honor to the 
Princess.” 

Hastening to do as he was told and presently all being 
in readiness, they proceeded to Roxana’s tent, where they 
found her mounted and awaiting their coming. Taking 
their departure without loss of time, they soon reached 
the ancient city of Larissa, now in a state of great decay 
because of neglect and the many wars from which it had 
suffered. Loitering for a while in its quaint streets, the 
scene of so many melancholy tragedies, they journeyed 
at last toward the Vale of Tempe. 

“What new mischief is afoot now, oh Prince?” Clitus 
exclaimed, riding up and pointing to one of Mithrines’ 
attendants who was hurrying past-. “Eye of Cyclops, 
but I have a mind to run him down and send him to keep 
company with his fellow meddler in the swollen river!” 
To this Alexander, making no answer save to wave the 
other back, Clitus retired to his place, muttering: “To* 
morrow, oh Prince, you may wish you had let me have 
my way.” 

Reaching the entrance to the vale Alexander dis- 
mounted, and lifting Roxana to the ground, seated her 
on a mossy bank where she could view what lay before 
her undisturbed. And it was a picture, of which there 
is none more beautiful or sublime in all the wide world. 
On their right Ossa’s massive heights rose in the clear 
atmosphere like the uplifted earth, clothed in garments 
of brown and vivid green. Huge and rugged, with 
rounded top, it resembled some sluggish giant asleep in 


147 


Olympus 

the warmth of the summer day. In front of them as they 
gazed, the glistening river, half hidden, stretched its 
winding course toward the sea. White and foaming, 
where its angry waters were too rudely compressed by 
the huge rocks that crowded close upon its banks, it be- 
came calm as the tranquil skies, where greater breadth 
gave compass to the hurrying stream. On its banks 
palms and stately plane-trees spread their extended 
branches, and back of these as a setting to the picture, 
olive trees and vivid evergreens and verdant shrubbery 
gave to the view a sylvan beauty. 

On the left, Olympus rising abruptly, appeared in its 
steep and towering height, as if about to topple into the 
slumbering vale. On the bank of the river, about the 
base of the great mountain, solitary cliffs, emulous of 
each other’s height, projected their castellated towers, 
like stately sentinels, far into the unclouded sky. Around 
the foot of the uplifted mountain, and as a fringe, huge 
oaks, old and moss grown, raised their sturdy strength. 
Further on in the vast stretches and gloomy canyons of the 
solemn height, dense foliage clung in luxuriant masses 
to its rugged sides. Above this a forest of pine trees, 
black and ominous, enveloped the mountain side as with a 
pall. Here the soft verdure of the earth ceased its growth 
as if, having reached the farthest limit of productive life, 
naught else remained. Above the band of sombre pine 
trees, great masses of crumbling granite, wrought in 
every fantastic form, supported the snow-clad summit 
of the mountain. This last, seen in the crystal atmos- 
phere against the deep blue of the far-off sky, seemed to 
float rather than rest in the ambient air. Such is and 


148 


Iskander 


was Olympus, rising stern and threatening ten thousand 
feet from the picturesque vale beneath. Not like other 
mountains, but seemingly alive, listening and watching, 
as if husbanding the secrets of the mighty Gods who for 
ages unknown watched the doings of men from its mys- 
terious heights. 

“Is it amid these solitudes and soaring heights,” Rox- 
ana exclaimed, as they sat still, looking with awe upon 
the great mountain, “that the Gods of your country 
dwell?” 

“Yes. Mighty Zeus, and about him other and lesser 
deities who respond to his all powerful will,” Alexander 
replied in a low voice, as if the listening Gods heard all 
he said. 

“Do they control all things ?” she asked, wonderingly, 
as if believing what he said might indeed be true. 

“Yes, and as they are pleased or angered the affairs of 
men prosper or go to ruin.” 

“If they be angered, how do you propitiate them?” she 
asked with curious interest. 

“By invocations and sacrifices and the keeping of the 
observances they require of mortals.” 

“If they be not propitious, how do they make their 
anger known?” she queried, gazing with awe upon the 
mighty mountain. 

“In many ways, sweet Princess. By the misfortunes 
that befall us ; by signs and omens ; the troubled sky, the 
thundering and lightning that accompany the storm. 
Each has a message of love or admonition. The en- 
trails of animals tell a story to those who read them 
aright, and the flight of birds not less. This morning as 


149 


Olympus 

I sacrificed to Apollo, an eagle, the emblem of my house, 
hovering for a while above the camp, at last took its up- 
ward flight and so was lost to view ; and from this I know 
that whatever befalls me or those I love, no harm will 
follow.” 

‘Then returning to the camp I may rest secure, know- 
ing that no peril threatens you,” she answered soberly, 
believing all he said, so much are we impressed by love 
and the mighty forces of nature. 

“Yes, though I hold danger sweet, if through it I gain 
greater favor in your eyes,” he answered, caressing her 
hand. 

“It were a cruel thing to exact such services for a thing 
of so little value. You need no such venture, you know 
full well, oh Prince, to find favor in my eyes,” she an- 
swered, the color deepening in her fair face. 

“Oh heavenly Princess, sweetest of women! what 
witchcraft have you wrought that I should have but one 
impulse, one hope, one thought, and that to please you,” 
he answered, his face and eyes aflame with the passion 
that consumed him. 

“It is but a fancy, born of our strange meeting and the 
romance of the peaceful plain and towering mountains. 
In a little while you will find me not more to your liking 
than other women; and this, I fear, ere I have been a 
week at Pella.” 

“Speak not of Pella,” Alexander answered, a cloud 
passing over his face. “The thought of its hates, its 
sycophants, its waiting intrigues, sends a chill to my 
heart. Here I am free to do as I will, and here, beneath 
Zeus’ watchful eyes,” he went on, rising and extending 


150 


Iskander 


his arms toward the mighty mountain, ‘‘I swear to be 
ever thus in all my heart’s desire.” 

“What is your heart’s desire, sweet Prince?” Roxana 
asked softly, awed by the solemnity of his oath to the lis- 
tening God, yet wishing to lead him on. 

“Your love, sweet woman, and naught beside. All 
else is but as gilding to the golden chain that binds me to 
you. Nay ! turn not away your sweet face, Roxana, but > 
let me read some ray of hope in your soft eyes,” and, 
grasping her hands, he would have thrown himself upon 
his knees had she not held him fast. 

Raising his hands to her lips, she kissed them, answer- 
ing, scarce above her breath : 

“I love you, sweet Iskander, so brave and gentle and 
true.” 

Filled with indescribable rapture, he put his arms about 
her and, drawing her to him, kissed her again and again 
in all the happiness of loving and being loved. 

“Now you are mine, sweet love, in sight of all the 
Gods who hear our sacred vows. Nor shall any power 
less great sever the bonds of love that bind us to each 
other.” 

“You forget, Iskander, that I am Persian and you are 
Greek, and that between our people there is deadly 
hatred,” she answered, a cloud darkening her eyes. 

“I care not, sweet Roxana. We wage not war on 
women, and our Kings have ever wed whom their hearts 
desired.” 

“Your Kings! What mean you by such speech, Iskan- 
der? Are you not what you seem, a simple Prince?” she 
cried, with agitated voice. 


151 


Olympus 

“No, sweet love, not what I have appeared, but Alex- 
ander, Philip’s son. Nay, if you turn from me thus, I 
will disown the tie nor ever own it more. I did but de- 
ceive you for a while, dear heart, that I might be free 
like other men. But now, having won your love as a 
simple Prince, I will as Alexander, nourish it forever.” 

“Not Iskander, but Alexander, heir to the mighty 
King that Persia fears !” she murmured after a while, the 
tears that glistened in her eyes showing all too plainly 
her deep regret. 

“To you I am Iskander, the simple Prince you loved, 
and nothing more; and thus it shall ever be.” 

“But the King, the mighty King ! And your mother ! 
They will kill me ere they permit so strange an alliance,” 
she replied, hiding her face. 

“My mother loves me above all things on earth and 
will approve all I do. The King may not oppose, but 
whatever he may do or say it will not change my purpose 
to make you my wife and Queen,” he answered sternly. 

“O why did I not know that you were Alexander! 
The King will cast you off and I will have been the cause. 
No, no! Iskander, sweet Iskander, I love you too much 
to betray you thus,” she cried, the tears streaming down 
her pale face. 

“No such thing can come of it, sweet love. I am 
rightful heir, and while loyal to the King, I will reign 
when he is dead, were a thousand Kings to say the con- 
trary,” he exclaimed, with flaming eyes. 

“Is it you, Iskander, so gentle and loving to me, of 
whom all men talk since Cheronea?” she answered with 


152 


Iskander 


sorrowing voice. “Can you be Alexander?’’ she went 
on, as if unable to think of him save as Iskander. 

“Yes, to all save you. It is as Alexander that the army 
and people know me, and ’tis as such they believe me 
fitted to govern and lead them to new conquests; and 
because of it I shall be free to choose my Queen, as I shall, 
when King, be free to shape my destiny.” 

“But you may be cut off in a night by those you thwart. 
How often it has happened thus in Susa,” she sorrow- 
fully replied. 

“In such peril Princes ever pass their lives. It is their 
destiny. Nor will my loving you add to the danger. So 
smile upon me, sweet being, and dismiss your fears, for 
from this hour our hearts and fortunes are forever one,” 
and, pulling her face to him, he sought to dry her tears 
with his fervent kisses. 

“I cannot deny my heart, sweet Iskander. My love 
went out to you when your upturned face, shining upon 
me, beamed confidence and strength in the midst of the 
fierce Theban soldiers,” she exclaimed, throwing her arms 
about his neck. 

“May the Gods favor the outlaws who thus gave me 
opportunity to win your love,” Alexander answered, re- 
turning her caress. “But see, my sweet, how low the 
sun. While we have lingered in such sweet dalliance the 
day has passed. Now ’tis time that you returned and I 
went forward on my errand.” 

“Nay, return with me, Iskander. Or take the guard, 
for I need no one but Clitus,” she answered, looking down 
on the sleeping valley, bathed in the fast lengthening 
shadows of the mountains. 


153 


Olympus 

^‘No, sweet one. It is but a half-hour’s ride and I shall 
reach the ships ere the sun has set,” Alexander answered, 
and lifting the trumpet that hung at his side, he signaled 
Clitus to bring up the waiting escort. ^Torm your guard 
about the Princess, good Clitus,” he went on as the lat- 
ter approached, “and return without stop, for it will be 
dark ere you reach the camp.” 

“You will not go on unattended at this late hour?” 
Clitus exclaimed, looking down with anxious eyes into 
the slumbering valley. 

“Why not, brave friend? One might venture without 
spear or buckler, but armed, what have I to fear?” he 
answered lightly, as he helped Roxana to her horse. 
“Adieu, till tomorrow, sweet love,” he whispered in 
parting, bending over and kissing her hand. Then mo- 
tioning Clitus to proceed, he stood still, watching his love 
until the intervening ground hid her form from view. 


CHAPTER XIII. 


FOR THE KING. 

Lysimachus, detaching himself from the group of offi- 
cers and pages who patiently awaited Alexander’s move- 
ments, had long since set out alone to make his way to the 
waiting ships. Going forward he, ever and anon, in fer- 
vid fancy, fixed his spear as he bore an imaginary adver- 
sary to the ground, or, drawing his sword, cut down some 
enemy who menaced him. Thus he went on, greatly 
pleased with himself, when suddenly he was startled mid- 
way of the vale, by an armed horseman, who emerged 
from the shrubbery that bordered the picturesque road. 
Alarmed, he would have fled, but the other threatening 
him, cried out : 

‘‘Stay, spear-shaft, ere I dull my lance on your shining 
armor !” 

Standing still, the face of the frightened pedagogue 
lengthened and paled beneath his glistening helmet. But 
the other offering him no harm, he cried out at last, with 
some show of courage and strength of voice : 

“How now, knave! Dare you stop the King’s mes- 
senger 1 Make way ere I run you through,” saying which 
he struck his lance with fierce vehemence against his re- 
sounding shield. 

“Softly, Elongus,” the other cried derisively. “Dull 
not your armor with self-inflicted blows, but come with 
me, and peacefully, lest harm befall you.” 

( 154 ) 


155 


For the King 

“Out upon you, rogue ! I am the Prince’s tutor and 
companion, and to stay me is to call his kingly wrath 
down on your knavish head,” Lysimachus exclaimed, 
his courage rising as the other made no move to attack 
him. 

“Cimmerian Gods, but your master must be a brave 
Prince to need such guidance ! Come, yield, Elongus, ere 
I spit your bowels with my lance, as one would open a 
clam’s mouth,” the robber cried, lifting his spear as if 
about to charge. 

“Nay I You dare not, for, know you, I am Phoenix 
and wait upon the living Achilles. So give me humble 
leave to pass, for friends await me further on,” Lysima- 
chus replied with quavering voice. 

“If you are Phoenix, I am Bilbo, the Pishwar, a sheep 
man from a cattle country. I seiwe no stripling master, 
know you, but Ossa, King of the mountain-side and 
spreading plain. Yield, then, ere I run you through,” he 
cried, gathering up his reins. 

“Nay, good Bilbo, pretty man,” Lysimachus replied 
with timorous voice, “there is no such King, but rather 
this peaceful mountain.” 

“What, wretch ! dost deny my King after whom the 
mountain was named! Guard yourself, for I am on 
you!” and clashing his armor he spurred full upon the 
cowering Lysimachus. But the latter, making no move 
to defend himself. Bilbo drew rein, crying in scorn: “Is 
it thus, Elongus, that you teach your Prince how to fight ! 
Come, then, with me. With training, you will make a 
cook for a real King,” and, taking Lysimachus’ spear 
from his trembling hands, the outlaw grasped the reins of 


156 


Iskander 


his horse, and turning abruptly from the road was in a 
moment hidden by the dense foliage. 

Alexander, ignorant of his tutor's mishap, followed 
the winding road, unconscious of everything, save that 
he loved and was beloved. Thus half the sylvan vale was 
traversed when, coming at last upon a grassy spot, he 
saw before him a horseman of gigantic stature, fully 
armed, sitting at ease as if expecting his coming. Awak- 
ened to life, Alexander, stopping his horse, awaited the 
other’s movements. Seeing this the stranger spurred into 
the open and, courteously saluting him, cried, as he 
raised his heavy shield: 

‘‘Throw down your arms and yield, oh stranger, or dare 
the chances of open combat and doing so lose your life!” 

“Have I no hope, then, think you, in such encounter?” 
Alexander cried, entertained, saluting the other in return. 

“No one who disputes with me in battle ever lives to 
tell of the encounter,” the other replied with amiable con- 
descension. 

“Who are you who dares boast of his strength in pres- 
ence of the mighty Gods?” Alexander cried impatiently. 

“Ossa! King of the rugged mountain and lord of the 
peaceful vale,” the other exclaimed in response without 
making any move. 

“Own rather to the title of robber and outlaw, and 
being such I will kill you in the King’s name, according 
to his express command,” Alexander cried, putting his 
lance in rest. 

“Nay, be not in such haste to lose your life, but yield 
peacefully, as did the boasting Phoenix scarce half an 
hour ago.” 


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For the King 

^‘What! Have you snared that harmless old man? 
He who never harmed man or beast?” Alexander cried, 
lilled with surprise and rage. 

“Yes, and the good man is now peacefully cooking my 
supper, which, indeed, you may share ere the vale is black 
with night, if you will,” the robber answered carelessly, 
thinking the other would yield, and caring little whether 
he did or no. 

“By the Gods who look down on us from yonder 
heights,” Alexander cried in rage, “if he be cook he shall 
have no other carcass but thine to turn upon his spit,” and 
lowering his spear, he rushed upon his huge foe. 

“Well, if you will, vain man,” the robber cried in 
derision, lifting his shield and leisurely fixing his lance, 
as if despising the other’s onslaught. 

Rushing forward and guiding Bucephalus with his 
knees, Alexander held his spear as if meditating a direct 
attack, but nearing his huge adversary, he turned to one 
side and thus his lance, passing the other’s guard, struck 
the robber full upon his mailed breast. But uselessly, for 
it did no other harm than to stir the angered outlaw, in 
his firm seat. Uttering a hoarse cry, the robber whirled 
to strike his enemy down, but Alexander, evading the 
stroke, circled the glade, awaiting a more favorable open- 
ing. Thus the unequal combat continued, Alexander los- 
ing no chance to attack his enemy, while evading the 
thrust of the robber’s mighty spear. Worn at last with 
the effort to reach the Prince with his ponderous weapon, 
the outlaw stood still, eyeing the other and awaiting his 
attack. Impatient to end the struggle, Alexander, re- 
treating to the utmost limit of the glade, turned and urg- 


158 


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ing his horse with voice and spur, again fiercely assailed 
his enemy ; but the outlaw upholding his great buckler, the 
Prince’s lance piercing the shield to the core, was splin- 
tered in his hand. Interposing his shield the outlaw’s 
savage stroke, which quickly followed, glanced upward 
and so flew harmless above the Prince’s head. Drawing 
his sword Alexander, furious with rage, closed with his 
stalwart foe, giving him no further chance to use his 
long and heavy spear. At this the robber, dropping his 
lance, drew his sword, and thus with clash of weapons 
and flash of fire, whirling and circling, each sought an 
opening to strike the other down. Drawing apart for a 
moment, impatient, they closed anew, their weapons flash- 
ing as they clashed in mid-air or fell with resounding 
blows upon the mailed armor or uplifted shield of the 
other. 

‘‘Thou game cock!” the robber cried at last, beating 
down Alexander’s defense and raising his ponderous 
blade high in air, brought it down with a mighty stroke 
full upon the Prince’s glistening helmet. Stunned by the 
blow, Alexander drew back, but quickly regaining his 
strength, threw himself with redoubled fury upon his un- 
harmed foe. Beating down Alexander’s defense anew, 
the outlaw raised his weapon, but Alexander observing 
the movement, interposed his sword to stay the stroke. 
Descending with lightning speed, the massive blade of 
the outlaw broke the lighter weapon of Alexander short 
off in his hand 

Believing the victory now assured, the robber rushed 
forward with a fierce cry to finish the combat with a 
stroke ; but Alexander evading the onslaught, released his 


159 


For the King 

battle-ax, and circling the plain, charged anew at headlong 
speed, full upon his invincible enemy. At this Bucepha- 
lus, as if conscious of his master’s danger, responding 
to the Prince’s voice, lifted his feet high in air as he 
approached, and plunging forward, fell like a thunderbolt 
on the smaller steed of the robber chief, crushing it to the 
ground. His enemy thus exposed, Alexander raised his 
battle-ax and Vv^ith a mighty stroke felled the robber to 
the groimd. Springing from his horse, he beat down 
with blow on blow the other’s upraised shield, and so at 
last had him at his mercy. Seeing this the robber king, 
unable to offer further defense, released his shield and, 
lying motionless, awaited the cruel stroke. Observing his 
adversary’s brave demeanor, Alexander, holding his bat- 
tle-ax aloft, cried out in pity: 

“Yield, oh King! For you deserve a title no less ex- 
alted.” 

“Nay; kill me, brave man, for I, a Prince in my own 
country, resisting Philip and all his army, may not sur- 
render to one of less royal blood.” 

“If that be all you ask, brave Prince, then yield, for I 
am of no less royal blood than Philip.” 

“Then you are Alexander? Or Amyntas, Perdiccas’ 
son?” the robber exclaimed, staring upward in astonish- 
ment at his chivalrous foe. 

“I am Alexander, Philip’s son,” the Prince answered, 
looking with admiring eyes on his prostrate enemy. 

“Then I may yield without dishonor. P'or he who 
overthrew the Theban army may well beat down the 
strength of a single arm,” the robber answered with 
cheerful voice, rising to his feet. 


160 


Iskander 


‘‘It was not I who overcame* you, ♦courageous man, 
but my brave horse. Responding to a trick I have taught 
him, though not with any serious thought, lifting his 
body, he bore you to the ground,” Aloiander answered, 
placing his face against that of Bucephalus’ in tender 
caress. 

“He more resembled a dragon than living horse, oh 
Prince. For as he came on, high-uplifted, his bloodshot 
eyes blazing through the covering of his head, appeared 
as though a demon threatened me,” Ossa answered, eye- 
ing Bucephalus as if still having doubt of his identity. 

“How does it happen, brave man?” the Prince re- 
sponded, viewing Ossa’s stalwart form and noble coun- 
tenance, “that you follow so base a calling" when honor- 
able service at arms only awaits the asking?” 

“The chief of a captive tribe,” Ossa answered, in a 
melancholy voice, “I fled with the remnant of my peo- 
ple to avoid death or slavery, and so honorable employ- 
ment being denied me, I became a robber and outlaw, as 
you see.” 

“Such has been the fate of many,” the Prince answered 
with sympathetic voice, “but now, brave man, I offer you 
freedom and honorable service in the King’s army if you 
care to change your mode of life.” 

“Do you speak in truth, oh Prince, or only to try me?” 
the other asked, as if doubting what he heard. 

“In truth, brave man, and all who follow you may find 
like service if they will.” 

“I accept the gracious offer for myself and my com- 
panions,” Ossa cried in quick response, his countenance 
lighting up with a noble ambition. 


161 


For the King 

“But may you pledge thus unreservedly, those who fol- 
low you?'’ Alexander asked, surprised. 

“Yes, for it is a part of our tribal life that he who over- 
comes the head shall rule in his place, all yielding obedi- 
ence to his successor. You, having conquered, now be- 
come chief of right, and so may do as you please." 

Astonished at what he heard, Alexander asked the 
number and whereabouts of the band, for of man or horse 
there was no sign. 

“I know not their present number, oh Prince, but they 
await my coming in our secure retreat far up the moun- 
tain side," Ossa answered, gazing on the rugged heights 
above them. 

“If that be so, then let us lose no time in seeking them," 
Alexander cried in response, springing upon his horse. 

Taking their way without further speech beneath the 
overhanging trees, they presently began the ascent of the 
mountain, now so obscured by the gathering darkness 
that the path was not discernible to one less familiar with 
the ground than Ossa. Climbing the steep ascent, they 
followed the obscure way, black with the shadows of 
night, until, at last, they reached an open space on the 
border of a mountain stream. Uttering a peculiar cry, a 
follower of the outlaw hastened forward in answer to 
the summons. Giving him his reins Ossa exclaimed, 
turning to Alexander : 

“We must leave our animals here, brave Prince, for 
only men or savage beasts can climb the fierce ascent. 
Nor need you fear," he went on, as he observed Alexan- 
der's reluctance .to leave Bucephalus behind. “This 


1G2 Iskander 

trusted man will care for your horse as if he were the 
King’s groom.” 

Caressing his steed with word and hand, as if parting 
from a cherished friend, Alexander followed on in Ossa’s 
steps. Going forward with labored effort, amid the 
stunted oaks and dense shrubbery that clung to the moun- 
tain side, the path presently emerged upon the broad sur- 
face of a granite rock. Looking down, Alexander could 
plainly discern the deep valley, while above, the summit 
of the mountain top was clearly outlined against the 
moonlit sky. At the further extremity of the wide ter- 
race a cave opened on the mountain side and here, to 
Alexander’s surprise, lights were to be seen and men 
engaged cleaning their weapons, or busily preparing the 
evening meal. Stopping at the entrance the chief ut- 
tered a shrill cry, whereupon, each grasping his weapon, 
hastened to group themselves about him as if some press- 
ing danger threatened. 

‘^Have you brought us Achilles to assist the brave and 
learned Phoenix?” one of the most forward and repulsive 
of the robbers exclaimed, going close to Alexander and 
scanning him in the uncertain light. 

‘‘No, Prado ; I have brought you a chief instead,” Ossa 
answered quietly. 

“A chief !” the outlaws exclaimed, some in amazement, 
others with incredulous voices. 

“Yes, according to the ancient laws of our tribe. For 
he overcame your chief in fair fight, and having him at 
his mercy might have killed him had he been so in- 
clined,” Ossa exclaimed, turning and saluting Alexander. 


163 


For the Ki ng 

“What did he instead?'' Prado queried with gloomy 
brow, as if regretting Alexander's clemency. 

“He offered me service in King Philip's army and I 
accepting, he comes to make like offer to you, who now 
owe him obedience as your chief," Ossa answered with 
animation, casting his eyes over his followers. 

“Service in Philip's army! Food for Theban crows! 
No, no ; we will have none of it !" Prado answered scorn- 
fully, waving his hand toward his companions who stood 
staring, not knowing what to make of it all. 

“What he wills, Prado, you must do. Tower to the 
Strongest!' Such is our oath and the sacred law of our 
tribe," Ossa answered sternly. 

“He overcome you by some trick, not in fair combat. 
He is not stronger or braver than I, and so I will not 
yield him obedience now, or at any time," Prado cried in 
scorn. 

“No one shall follow me except of his free will. The 
King will have no traitors or cowards in his army," Alex- 
ander cried with ringing voice, incensed at the other's 
arrogance. 

“Go your way; you will find no followers here. For 
we are free, not slaves, to be traded like Thracian mer- 
cenaries or Macedonian cattle," Prado cried in response, 
looking about him. 

“Who made you leader, Prado, to speak for others?" 
Ossa cried with stern displeasure. “But come, my com- 
rades," he went on, with more amiable voice, “hungry 
men know not what is for their good. Let us eat and 
sleep and tomorrow determine our minds. You, brave 
Prince, shall abide with us till then; for you could not, if 


164 


Iskander 


you would, descend the mountain side tonight. Share 
with us our food, and if it is less dainty than the King’s 
it will nourish you none the less.” 

Leading the Prince within the cave, a vaulted room 
lighted with pots of flaming pitch met his gaze, its rough 
walls blackened with age and smoke. In its further ex- 
tremity fires burned, and about them men busied them- 
selves preparing the evening meal. Some were baking 
bread on the live coals while others turned the spits 
whereon were savory pieces of beef or game of different 
kinds. Near these* and with his face buried in his hands, 
Alexander espied Lysimachus, overcome with grief and 
unconscious of all that had been said or done. Going 
to him, he put his arms about the old man’s neck, saying 
in a coaxing voice : 

‘‘Cheer up, good master, your Prince has come to share 
your company and take you hence.” 

Hearing his voice Lysimachus lifted his head and, 
seeing Alexander, he arose tottering to his feet, but, over- 
come with grief, fell sobbing and trembling into the 
Prince’s arms. 

“Has my brave Achilles, my baby, been overcome by 
the base wretches? Oh sorry the hour, my master, that 
we parted from Clitus and the brave Companions !” 

“Nay, I come not as a captive, but the guest of these 
sturdy men, good Lysimachus,” the Prince answered re- 
assuringly, “and so you are free to return to your com- 
panions when and how you like.” 

“How can that be, and you here, and alone?” the other 
answered, seeing none of Alexander’s followers. 

“It is enough that I tell you so. Dry your tears, and 


165 


For the King 

tomorrow ere the sun is an hour high you shall be once 
more with your friends.” 

Supper being now prepared, all partook of the abun- 
dant fare, and afterwards, a bed of fragrant boughs being 
made ready for Alexander and Lysimachus, they lost no 
time in seeking the restful couch. 

With the first glimpse of day, the bustle and prepara- 
tion of the previous evening commenced anew. But soon, 
the morning meal being served and quickly eaten. Ossa 
summoned his followers to the wide-spreading rock, cry- 
ing, so that all might hear : 

“Yesterday, my comrades, in open field and fair com- 
bat, as I have told you, this brave Prince overthrew me 
and held me at his mercy. Defeated, I yielded leadership 
to him as his of right. Now, as our chief, he offers us 
absolvence and honorable service in the King's army. 
Through which freedom, if the Gods so will it,” he went 
on with melancholy voice, “we may reclaim our wives and 
children from servitude and slavery. Thus we shall es- 
cape our wearisome and degraded life which has no end- 
ing save death or slavery. Trusting the brave and chival- 
rous Prince, I place myself by his side and appeal to you, 
my companions and kinsmen, to do the same,” and con- 
cluding, Ossa, with flushed face, fell back beside the 
Prince, who stood gazing on the strange scene with curi- 
ous and attentive eyes. 

To this appeal there was no movement or word of re- 
sponse, each man standing still, looking steadfastly at 
Prado as if seeking his advice. At last, and with seem- 
ing reluctance, the disaffected outlaw, responding to the 
call, slowly pushed his way to the front of the gaping 


166 


Iskander 


throng. Looking to those about him for approval, and 
then turning his gaze on Ossa, he cried, in bitter scorn : 

‘Whether the Prince conquered in fair fight, or failing 
that, bewitched you, matters not. He is not the strongest 
as you say, and he who would rule must prove his worth, 
where all may see and judge. Is not that the law ? Could 
there be any other he concluded, turning confidently to 
those about him. 

^‘Yes, yes. If he be the strongest let him prove it,’^ 
they responded with one voice, striking their weapons. 

‘Who is there among you who will do battle for 
supremacy already fairly won?” Ossa answered, as if in 
apology for their mutiny, his face black with rage. 

“I! And overcoming him, will rule in your place,” 
Prado cried, eyeing Alexander with derisive scorn. “But 
let the combat be as always, with naked sword and with- 
out shield of any kind.” 

“I accept the challenge, brave Ossa, and no one shall 
abide the issue if he be not so inclined,” Alexander cried, 
his eyes aflame with anger at the other’s insolence. 

“Nay, you shall not fight the thief, good master,” 
Lysimachus cried, hastening to Alexander’s side. “It 
were a shame and mockery of your kingly rank. We will 
rather go our way and another day return and mete out 
the punishment these outlaws merit.” 

“Peace, Lysimachus! ’Tis but a trial of strength and 
skill, and I may not evade the proffered combat, or show 
less courage than another man,” Alexander answered im- 
patiently, removing his helmet and armor. Then taking 
the sword Ossa offered him, he advanced and awaited 
his opponent. 


167 


For the King 

Prado showing no less resolution, hurried forward 
and in a moment the two confronted each other in the 
center of the great rock. 

“Give room there!” Ossa cried with stern impatience, 
motioning and pushing his followers to the mouth of the 
cave. 

When in this way the wide platform had been cleared, 
the combatants losing no time, advanced upon each other 
with furious eagerness. Stroke on stroke followed in 
hot haste, their weapons emitting sparks of fire as they 
clashed in mid-air in response to some fierce blow, or 
glided to and fro with parry and thrust. Thus the com- 
bat continued without advantage to either, while those 
who watched held their breath, awaiting the outcome of 
the struggle. After a while, Prado thinking himself the 
stronger and confident of victory, crowded forward, 
striving to beat down the blade of the other by skillful 
play, or wrest it forcibly from his hand. Alexander, 
slowly giving way, kept up such show of strength and 
skill of weapon that the other, try as he would, could by 
no means reach him with his blade. Angered and sur- 
prised, Prado grew more vehement, and the struggle in- 
creasing in fury, the clash of their swords rang out on the 
morning air, like the sharp beat of the blacksmith^s anvil. 
Slowly backing away, as if unable to withstand the 
other's onslaught, Alexander, at last, having measured 
his opponent’s skill, stood still. Then giving a moment’s 
pause, he rushed upon his enemy, crying, “For the King/' 
and with such fierce determination and dexterity of stroke 
that the other, falling back, could do nothing more than 
defend himself against the deadly assault. 


168 


Iskander 


“The Prince is the better swordsman!’^ Ossa cried, 
watching Alexander’s sword as it glistened in the early 
sunlight. “Prado, the poor devil, can do nothing but 
back and parry!” 

“There is not the Prince’s like in all Macedonia, unless 
it be Clitus, which I doubt,” Lysimachus cried, tears of 
joy filling his worn eyes, as his young master drove the 
now frightened robber before him. 

At last, crowding Prado to the verge of the cliff, Alex- 
ander, feigning, caught the other’s extended sword with 
such strength and dexterity of wrist that the outlaw, los- 
ing hold of his weapon, it flew high in the air, dropping at 
his feet. The struggle over, Alexander turned about, and, 
raising his sword, saluted Ossa with a kindly smile. See- 
ing him thus unguarded, Prado, maddened with rage and 
shame, stooped down and grasping his weapon, rushed 
forward to thrust Alexander in the back. At this a cry 
of horror arose from those who watched, and Alexander 
divining the cause, sprang forward and so avoided the 
cowardly blow. Turning and taking fresh hold of his 
sword, he rushed upon the treacherous outlaw with a 
savage cry. Crowding him swiftly to the utmost verge of 
the cliff, he beat down his guard, and then, neither wait- 
ing nor giving quarter, buried his blade to the hilt in the 
other’s breast. Feeling the stroke, Prado sprang back, 
and doing so, fell, with a despairing cry, headlong from 
the towering cliff. Seeing this, those who watched, tak- 
ing no thought of the outlaw’s fate, rushed forward and, 
falling on their knees, cried with one voice : 

“Hail, chief and master!” 

“If I be chief,” Alexander cried in response, holding 





“ For the King 


Page i6j 






169 


For the King 

his weapon high aloft, '‘swear upon this sword, dyed with 
your comrade’s blood, to be true servants of the King.” 

“We swear!” they exclaimed, each raising his weapon 
aloft. 

The combat being thus happily terminated. Ossa lost 
no time in arranging for the departure of the band. 
While he was thus engaged Alexander, going to the edge 
of the cliff, looked down upon the quiet valley and the 
glistening river, seemingly no wider than a thread of sil- 
ver. By its side, in the choked road, to his great aston- 
ishment, he presently discerned the Companion Cavalry 
standing still in confused and disordered ranks. Amazed 
at what he saw, he lifted a trumpet to his lips and blew 
the call “To arms.” Then waiting while the soldiers 
stood still, looking about them in wonder, he thrice re- 
peated the Prince’s signal. This echoing and re-echoing 
from the mountain sides, reaching the waiting soldiers, 
gave them the joyful assurance that their Prince was 
near them and unharmed. Raising their weapons, they 
gave a mighty shout which, lifted in the still air, came at 
last to Alexander’s ears like a faint whisper from the 
vale below. Turning to Ossa, he cried, as he hastened to 
don his armor : 

“Quick, good Ossa, let us descend. Your companions 
can follow at their leisure.” 

“Nay, they are ready and waiting, to a man,” Ossa 
answered, pointing with glowing face to the men who 
stood in slender column within the cave. “See, they 
come like skilled soldiers ready to take their places with- 
out instruction of any kind.” 

Smiling his pleasure, Alexander saluted them with his 


170 


Iskander 


sword, and turning about, lost no time in commencing 
the descent of the mountain. Reaching the spot where 
he had left his horse, Alexander greeted the gallant steed 
with a tender word as he sprang upon his back to con- 
tinue the descent. Approaching the waiting column, the 
soldiers hailed his return with loud acclaim, gathering 
about him with tender love, as if he were their father. 
Smiling his thanks and waving his sword toward those 
who followed, he cried : 

‘‘See, comrades, I come not empty-handed, but with 
these loyal and true men for the King’s army.” 

Responding with a shout, the wondering Companions 
greeted, with hearty welcome, their new and strange com- 
rades. Giving directions to Ossa to lead his men on to 
the water’s edge and there await his coming, Alexander 
placed himself at the head of the Companions, and giving 
the signal, set out at a gallop to meet and escort Roxana 
to the coast. 

Calling Clitus to his side as they swiftly traversed the 
silent vale, Alexander exclaimed, with curiosity not un- 
mixed with anger : 

“How does it happen, Clitus, that instead of guarding 
the camp I find you here, loitering idly by the river 
bank?” 

“I know not, oh Prince, save it was there we met the 
sibyl of the vale, and she, vanishing, ere her story was 
finished, we stood bewildered, not knowing which way 
to turn.” 

“The sibyl of the vale ! Did she appear before you ?” 

“Yes, oh Prince. Going forward in the early dawn, 
uncertain what to do, we came upon her holding aloft a 


171 


For the King 

flaming torch, and it being a night of dreams and woman 
foolishness, I halted, no way surprised at seeing her. At 
which, peering down from the rock that loomed above 
the road, she cried : ‘He whom you seek sleeps not by 
the sea but on the mountain heights.’ Then, ere I could 
gain further speech of her, she quenched her torch and 
vanished like a mist in the uncertain light.” 

“She has ever been a friend to the Macedonians, and 
more than once has warned our armies of foes awaiting 
them in the hidden recesses of these mountains. But 
how comes it that you were there instead of at Larissa as 
I commanded?” Alexander inquired with some impa- 
tience. 

“It was all the doings of the Princess Roxana and by 
no will of mine,” Clitus answered with confident assur- 
ance, as if knowing the excuse would find favor in his 
master’s eyes. 

“The Princess ! What had she to do with it ?” 

“This, good master, and I know not if I did aright,” 
Clitus responded, smiling grimly to himself. “But in 
the middle of the night I was awakened by a cry and, 
going to the door of my tent, found her there unattended, 
save by a female slave. Surprised out of my senses, I 
questioned her, and this was the story she told me : Re- 
tiring to her couch, worn with the fatigue of the day, 
she presently fell asleep, and, doing so, dreamed that she 
followed you as you descended into the valley. Midway 
of the vale, as she watched, you were set upon by a gigan- 
tic robber. Fighting with unequal strength of arm and 
weapon, you were at last overcome and led away into the 
depths of the mountain. Such was her story, and hear- 


172 


I skander 


ing it, I laughed. At that, enraged, she burst into tears, 
crying out that if I did not go in search of you she would 
herself set out alone. At last frightened, I know not 
why, I donned my armor and gathering and arming 
these soldiers, set out as she commanded,” Clitus con- 
cluded, eyeing the Prince as if to ask if any part of the 
dream were true. 

“ ^Twas strange, Clitus, and a message from the pre- 
serving Gods,” he answered, lifting his eyes to the snow- 
topped summit of Olympus. “For it was precisely as she 
dreamed, save that I overcame the robber chief instead, 
and he, swearing fealty to the King for himself and his 
followers, I went with him to accept their oath in per- 
son.” 

“Was the meeting a chance one, think you, oh Prince, 
or did the robber know of your coming?” Clitus asked, 
thinking of Mithrines^ flying messenger. 

“They were on the watch, good Clitus, but the contest 
ending as I say, no harm followed.” And musing on 
what Clitus had said, his heart filled with rapture, Alex- 
ander spurred forward at topmost speed, impatient to 
meet and welcome his love. 


CHAPTER XIV. 


THE SIBYL OF THE VALE. 

Hurrying forward without slackening rein, Alexander 
came upon Eumenes and the marching column as it en- 
tered the picturesque vale. In its midst and surrounded 
by a guard of honor, the Persian envoys moved forward 
with stately dignity. As if in contrast, far in the rear, 
with pipe and song, the “Hungry Horde” came straggling 
on with joyful voice. Galloping to the side of Roxana, 
Alexander cried in rapture: 

“Greeting and happiness, sweet Princess! I have re- 
turned to guide you through the enchanted valley lest, 
hurrying, you lose something of its beauty in the strange- 
ness of the setting.” 

“Thanks, gentle Prince, I had not thought to see you 
again till we reached the coast,” she answered, her voice 
and heightened color evincing her delight. 

“So I told you, sweet being, but no sooner do I leave 
your presence than I turn about to retrace my steps, for- 
getful of all save being near you,” he answered, leading 
her horse to one side to allow the column to pass. 

While thus waiting, Mithrines, white of face, ap- 
proached, half reclining in his seat. Looking down from 
the back of the dromedary and seeing them, he cried in 
scorn to Alexander : 

“The Gods protect you now, but naught shall long 
put off the fateful hour!” and lifting himself he half 

( 173 ) 


174 


I skander 


raised the javelin by his side as if to hurl it at his enemy; 
but, releasing the weapon, he passed on, his lowering face 
fixed in scowling hatred on the Prince and his companion. 

* What new peril has this wretch contrived, Iskander ?’’ 
Roxana cried in fear, as she drew her horse near to that 
of Alexander. “Say, sweet love, if my dream was true; 
and did Clitus reach your side in time?’' she went on, 
grasping his hand as she recalled the events of the previ- 
ous night. 

“Let not your tender heart be disturbed, sweet love, 
with thoughts of Mithrines and his foolish boasting. Of 
your dream, Roxana, it was only true in part, your gentle 
love adding to the danger. Clitus, doing as you directed, 
reached my side and found me safe and unharmed as you 
see me now. But, come, let us not waste the sweet hour 
lest you lose some part of the picturesque vale, for you 
must know, dear heart, it has ever been the pride of Greece 
as it is the admiration of all men.” 

Advancing at an easy pace, Alexander cried as the 
valley narrowed : 

“See how the overhanging mountains crowd upon the 
foaming river as it cuts its way between the granite walls. 
Such mighty effort puts to shame all the puny works of 
men.” 

“ ’Tis thus you ever put me off, Iskander, nor tell me 
aught you think,” she answered sorrowfully, unable to 
dismiss her fears. But changing with the moment, as 
women will, she cast aside her fretful thoughts, and, 
grasping Alexander’s hand, cried out: “Come, sweet 
love, I will sorrow no more, but delight with you in the 
beauty and strangeness of what we see.” 


175 


The Sibyl of the Vale 

And well she might, for in the presence of the majestic 
mountains the hopes and fears of men seemed trivial 
things. Yesterday she had viewed Olympus from a dis- 
tance ; now, beyond the foaming river, enveloped in fleecy 
clouds of spray, the great mountain reared its dizzy 
height. About its base and ascending walls the deep 
fissures and gloomy caverns that seamed its rugged front 
were clearly discernible to her astonished eyes. Nearer 
at hand, solitary cliffs projected their graceful heights 
far into the ambient air, a nesting place for birds. Upon 
the mountain side, far up, precipices and sombre canons, 
cut deep in the granite wall, dazed her eyes as she sought 
in vain to pierce their precipitous depths. 

Such was Olympus, reverenced by the Greeks as the 
abode of the Gods. In its vast solitudes outlaws and 
slaves found a retreat secure from pursuit, as in after 
time pious hermits sought its hidden caverns in which 
to pass their days in fasting and prayer. Or later still, 
in the ages to come, its towering summits would become 
the abode of gloomy monasteries in which men would 
pass their lives in penitence and prayer. Or now, in the 
vast cycles of time, these having passed away like the 
others, the mountain and its projecting heights are once 
more given up to solitude and silence as in the beginning. 

Gazing upward affrighted, Roxana exclaimed as she 
grasped Alexander’s hand : 

‘The projecting heights, Iskander, tremble as if about 
to fall upon our heads,” and turning. Ossa’s projecting 
cliffs meeting her frightened gaze as they seemed to bal- 
ance themselves, suspended in the air, she cried : “Come, 
Iskander, let us hasten, for my heart no longer beats 


176 


Iskander 


with fear of these overhanging mountains/’ and putting 
spurs to their horses they quickly reached a secluded part 
of the valley where greater breadth gave rest to her over- 
wrought nerves. 

‘‘Stay, Iskander,” she cried, as they reached a sylvan 
glade, belted about with stately trees. “In this quiet 
spot one might pass a lifetime and yet find it all too short 
— if their love were near,” she added, seeking her com- 
panion’s hand. 

Carried away by the solitude and sweetness of the syl- 
van dell, Alexander threw his arms about Roxana and, 
kissing her with tender love, cried out with throbbing 
heart: 

“Yes, ’tis as if sweet Nature, exhausting all her treas- 
ures, had here contrived an enchanted spot for those who 
love. Would it were our happy lot, Roxana, to pass our 
lives in sweet contentment amid such solitudes.” 

“It is among such heights and silent valleys as this, 
Iskander, that I live, and more like a shepherdess than 
aught else.” 

“I would you were such, and I a shepherd with naught 
beside my bleating flocks and your sweet presence.” 

“Why is it not that way, Iskander?” she asked with 
trembling voice. “Oh, what is to become of our trusting 
love amid the fierce wars and strivings of the great! 
Surely, it will have no ending but despair and death 1” 

“Say not so, sweet love. For as I shall have strength 
to govern when I become King, so shall I have strength 
to make you my Queen; and that naught may come be- 
tween us, sweet love, let us pray to the Gods on yonder 
heights to fulfill, in this, our hearts’ desire,” and dis- 


177 


The Sibyl of the Vale 

mounting and kneeling like trusting children they lifted 
their eyes to the majestic mountain in prayer that Zeus 
might grant them the happiness their hearts craved. 
“Now, sweet love,’^ Alexander exclaimed, as they rose 
to their feet, “whatever may come, whether we be near 
each other or far apart, we shall ever know the other is 
true to our plighted troth.” 

“I will fear no longer, dear Iskander, nor deny my love 
its gentle impulse, but let it become my very life, or, if 
need be, the cloak that covers me when I die,” she an- 
swered, throwing her arms about his neck and bursting 
into tears, as if, despite her words, the wide gulf that 
parted them was ever present to her confiding nature. 

Thus these loving hearts plighted their faith anew, 
amid the stillness of the sylvan dell, in the shadow of the 
towering mountains. 

Meanwhile the marching column, unmindful of Alex- 
ander and Roxana or their trusting love, kept on its 
way to the smiling sea. Thus it reached a spot in the 
congested valley where. Ossa crowding close upon the 
river, only a narrow path cut through the solid wall 
afforded a way for the passing column. Beside this the 
river, black as night, whirled in never-ending eddies about 
the deep inlet here worn in the side of the crumbling 
rock. Above a steep cliff arose, offering no foothold 
save where a jutting rock hung like an outstretched arm 
over the narrow road. Off this rock, in a deep cavern 
opening on the projecting spur, Arythrea, the sacred 
prophetess of Olympus, dwelt in solitude. Now, as the 
noisy throng drew near, all eyes beheld her with wonder 
or affright, as, emerging from the cave, she stood revealed 


178 


Iskander 


against the clear blue sky. Of noble features and com- 
manding height, the sacred priestess looked the accepted 
oracle of Zeus that all knew her to be. About her meager 
arms and shrunken form she wore, as if in penitence, 
rude garments of wool and undressed goat-skins. Her 
dress, falling loosely about her majestic form, was girt 
at the waist with a belt of serpent skins, the heads of the 
loathsome reptiles dangling at her knees. Of covering 
for her head there was none, save the coarse gray hair 
which fell in disheveled masses over her neck and sloping 
shoulders. 

To the marching soldiers she made no sign, but as the 
Persian nobles drew near she waved her hand as if com- 
manding them to halt. Looking down on Oxyartes' won- 
dering face, the prophetic spirit full upon her, she cried in 
a commanding voice: 

‘^Hail, noble chieftain of the mountain heights 1 Go in 
peace and happiness, knowing thy honored name shall be 
placed above that of other men in thy country and shall 
be remembered so long as the deeds of this mighty age 
are treasured in the history of mankind.” 

Waving him to proceed, she looked down on Arta- 
bazus, as he came on with noble air, crying : 

‘‘All glory to thee, noble Persian, in the coming time, 
for thy exalted honor and steadfast loyalty to thy stricken 
King and crumbling empire. Go thy way, for though 
thy courage and constancy shall naught avail, they shall 
be remembered of thee so long as men regard virtue and 
honor.”* 

♦This great nobleman remained steadfast to the Persian King 
throughout the latter’s struggle to defend his country and crown. 
After the decisive defeat at Arbela he followed him to Ecbatana, 


179 


The Sibyl of the Vale 

Waving Artabazus farewell, as she had the other, the 
eyes of the prophetess rested with sorrowing glance on 
the white face and recumbent figure of Mithrines. Look- 
ing up he cried with scoffing smile : 

“What! Have you something with which to tickle 
my listening ear and swelling vanity, sweet nurse? Or 
is your message of a sombre hue, and therefore more 
likely to be true?’' 

“Rail not, presumptuous man, accursed of Gods and 
men I” she answered with sorrowing voice. 

“Accursed, you say?” he answered, holding up his 
jeweled hands in vain derision. “Look these like curses 
or blessings?” he went on, flashing the sparkling gems. 
“Out with the story, beldam, nor delay the march, for 
I see you are near to bursting with splenetic humor.” 

“Scoff not at the Gods, betrayer of thy countrymen 
and willing slave of the Persian tyrant. He, too, thou 
shalt betray, and yet another and a nobler master. But 
vainly, for thy treachery disclosed thou shalt end thy 
days, not in honor, but outstretched on Pera’s rocky cita- 
del. There, while thy parched lips shall cry mercy for 
men murdered and betrayed, hungry vultures shall fight 
for thy rotting flesh ere thy dimmed and sorrowing eyes 
are closed in death.” 

the last of the Persian capitals to surrender. Nor did he desert him 
when it became necessary for Darius to flee from this last strong- 
hold on Alexander’s approach. Commanding a troop of fifteen 
hundred men he continued in attendance on the great King until he 
was crowded to one side by Bessus and his fellow conspirators be- 
fore they put Darius to death on the Parthian plain. Then, turning 
to one side to avoid Alexander’s pursuing army, he awaited on neu- 
tral territory the termination of the great struggle. 


180 


Iskander 


“When, oh dragon of the air, shall all this come to 
pass?’’ Mithrines cried, paling at the sibyl’s words, but 
preserving still his scornful front. 

“Ere time has dimmed thy cunning eyes or cooled thy 
poisoned blood, weak man. But all toO' long, though 
nothing thou plannest shall come to pass save the betrayal 
of trusts bestowed on thee. No! Not more fruitful than 
the vain efforts of yonder grinning corpse which, living, 
sought to do thy evil offices,” and pausing, she pointed 
her bony finger at the bloated form of Mithrines’ attend- 
ant which slowly floated with upturned visage in the 
black waters at her feet. “Seel he comes to confront 
thee in thy pride and wickedness as a warning from the 
Gods,” she went on as Mithrines gazed down at the loath- 
some object with blanched face and shrinking form. 

“Of that other one,” she continued, “whom thou sent 
hither but yesterday on an errand of death, his mission, 
like the others, came to naught, and if thou wouldst be 
sure, go seek him by yonder curling smoke, where thou 
shalt find his scattered bones, a prey to the devouring 
wolves. Go, vain man!” she cried with majestic air, 
holding her staff aloft, “and pray the Gods that thy life 
may be cut short ere the things I have told thee come 
true.” 

Uttering a curse, Mithrines struck the dromedary a 
cruel blow, but proceeding, his eyes followed the floating 
corpse, which, slowly circling in the eddying water, 
seemed to point him out as the betrayer of his kind. And 
to give this greater semblance of truth, as the body was 
at last sucked down by the whirling pool, the head sud- 
denly lifted and, with arms extended, stared at him from 


181 


The Sibyl of the Vale 

out its glazed and sunken eyes. Thus it slowly disap- 
peared in the black waters, its shining teeth glistening 
between the swollen lips, giving to the face an air of 
such fiendish glee that Mithrines, uttering a curse, fell 
back on his couch as if stricken with death. 

‘‘Heard you what the sibyl said?” Clitus asked with 
pale face and open mouth, turning to Lysimachus, as they 
followed close upon Mithrines’ heels. “Is there truth in 
such prophecies, think you?” 

“ ’Twere blaspheming the Gods to doubt it,” Lysima- 
chus answered, his eyes turned toward Olympus. 

“She seemed to foretell the very things men talk about; 
the downfall of Sardis and the destruction of the Persian 
Empire.” 

“She needs not the gift of prophecy to foretell that if 
Alexander leads the way,” Lysimachus answered, as if 
his master were already seated on the throne of the great 
King. 

“See, Lysimachus,” Clitus cried, pointing to the body 
of Mithrines’ attendant, as with hideous gravity it stood 
half upright in the whirling waters. “ ’Tis as the sibyl 
said.” 

“What meant she, Clitus? Did Mithrines murder 
him?” the other asked with pale cheeks, as he looked 
down on the repulsive object. 

“Nay, ’twas but a figure of speech foretelling the fate 
of Mithrines and his creatures,” Clitus answered, evad- 
ing the question as he rode on with downcast head. 

Alexander and Roxana presently nearing the overhang- 
ing rock, and he espying the sibyl, called to his com- 
panion, saying : 


182 


Iskander 


“See yonder majestic and lonely figure, sweet love! 
’Tis Arytlirea, the prophetess of the vale.” 

“Can she truly foretell the things that are to come, 
think you ?” 

“So it is said and everywhere believed.” 

“Will she have aught to say to us, think you?” Roxana 
asked, as if it were a thing to be avoided. 

“I know not, but when last I passed she looked down 
on me in silence. When I would have stopped she waved 
me on, as if to some good fortune, and so it happily 
turned out,” he went on, thinking of Cheronea. “Today 
she seems in less pleasant mood, and, see I she beckons us 
to halt.” 

“Hast thou nothing to ask of me, sweet Prince? Nei- 
ther thou nor thy fair companion?” the sibyl cried as 
Alexander and Roxana stood still with upturned faces. 
“Wouldst thou not know what the future has in store 
for thee, great Prince? Thou with the yellow hair and 
uplifted head, fearing naught save the Gods.” 

“No, sacred mother, I seek not to know the future. 
Give me the present hour of happiness and the hope that, 
dying, I may still clasp this hand in mine,” Alexander 
answered, pressing Roxana^s fingers to his lips. 

“Thy end shall be as thou sayest, sweet Prince, and 
thus thy simple wish is granted thee. But the Gods per- 
mit not such as thee, however they may be inclined, to 
go forward in life without knowledge of what is in store 
for them,” she answered, restraining him with her wand. 

“What, think you, have the Gods in store for me, good 
mother?” Roxana interposed, as if impatient to know 
her fate, be it what it might. 


183 


The Sibyl of the Vale 

‘‘Everything that women crave and men honor, sweet 
being,” the sibyl responded. “For in the days to come 
thy name shall rise like a meteor in the far east, and 
fixing itself in the heavens shall dwell beside the star of 
him who sits beside thee. Such is thy destiny, fair maiden ; 
seek to know no more.” 

“I would not if I could, for ’tis all and more than I 
could ask,” Roxana answered, tears dimming her soft 
eyes as she lifted Alexander’s hand to her lips in tender 
caress. 

“See, sweet love, how idle your fears, for your life 
and mine are forever one. ’Tis thus the Gods decree,” 
Alexander cried, clasping his arm about her trembling 
form. 

“Of thee, great Prince, thy life belongs to the ages. 
The world proclaims thee and men already hail thy rising 
fortune. Ere two harvests shall pass, thy star, shooting 
heavenward, shall be beheld of men for all the coming 
time. Fear not, for neither poison, nor dagger, nor battle 
dangers, shall strike thee down. So thou shalt go on till 
thy destiny is fulfilled and thou art known no more save 
in the annals of mankind. But of her beside thee, not 
till thou art more Persian than Greek canst thou proclaim 
her Queen of thy lofty throne. Then the splendor of 
thy fame shall envelop her and all the world shall pay 
her reverence as to a Goddess,” and, lifting up her arms 
to the sacred mountain as if blessing those before her, 
she slowly turned and entered the open cavern. 

Clasping his companion in his arms as the sibyl van- 
ished, Alexander cried: 

“Hail, Queen of my heart and throne !” 


184 


Iskander 


But she, tenderly embracing him, answered naught, 
and thus they rode on in silence, pondering on what the 
prophetess had said. At last, emerging from the seques- 
tered vale, they came upon the open sea, its surface glis- 
tening in the sunlight like disks of polished silver. 

“See, sweet love, the ships await our coming,” Alex- 
ander cried, pointing to the vessels anchored in the little 
bay. 

“Yes, while we have loitered, like truant children, 
everything has been made ready for our departure,” Rox- 
ana answered, as she saw the loaded vessels and waiting 
sailors. 

“Clitus has not given the soldiers time to breathe the 
refreshing air, ere hurrying them and their belongings 
aboard the ships. No wonder the soldiers love him, and 
the King not less !” Alexander cried with beaming eyes. 

“At Ephesus our officers were a week doing what 
Clitus has accomplished in so short a time,” Roxana 
answered with a sigh, thinking of the supineness of her 
countrymen. 

“Thus Clitus has been taught by the King, and so it 
is that our army comes always upon the enemy unpre- 
pared,” Alexander answered as if he had learned the les- 
son well. 

“I pray that your brave soldiers and those of the great 
King may never come together except in friendship,” 
Roxana answered with foreboding voice. 

“Bactria is far away, sweet love, and if destiny leads 
our armies there, those you love will then be more free 
and honored than under Persia’s rule.” 

“Oh, Iskander, you look only on the thing that is hap- 




185 


The Sibyl of the Vale 

piest and best for us/’ she answered, bending over and 
kissing his extended arm. 

“Would you have it otherwise, sweet love? For if I 
were less fixed in my resolve, what hope that I should 
ever govern Macedon and its rugged people? Like my 
father, every adverse thing shall yield, and so at last you 
shall share my throne as you now share my heart,” he 
cried, exalted, clasping her yielding hand with fervent 
love and hope. 


CHAPTER XV. 


THE LYBIAN KING. 

Alexander and Roxana reaching the shore, Clitus wel- 
comed them, exclaiming, as he sniffed the salt air, that 
the ships were ready to weigh anchor. 

“Give orders, then, for our departure, if the augur’s 
report be favorable,” Alexander answered, for in that age, 
it must be remembered, nothing was attempted by the 
Greeks if the omens were not propitious. 

“It foretells good fortune, oh Prince. Examining the 
entrails of the slaughtered victim, Evenius found them 
perfect, but as he held the throbbing heart in his open 
hand it emitted a fountain of blood, covering his sacred 
person.” 

“What does he presage from that?” Alexander asked 
attentively. 

“A bloody conflict, good Prince.” 

“A conflict ! And with whom ?” Alexander exclaimed 
incredulously, Macedonia being then at peace with all 
her neighbors. 

“With the pirates who infest the coast like rats about 
a deserted fortress.” 

“The King long since swept the gulf of all such pests.” 

“Yes, but only to return like vultures,” Clitus cried, 
elated at the prospect of battle and the spoils of victory. 

“If what you say is true, ’tis a thing to be looked to. 
But from whence heard you this ?” 

( 186 ) 


187 


The Lybian King 

‘Trom the sailors; and taking their word I have dis- 
tributed the soldiers among the ships so that each may 
bear his share of the burden.” 

‘That is like the skillful soldier you are. While I 
have dallied you have acted,” Alexander answered, smil- 
ing upon the other. 

“Nay, I deserve no praise, having done only what the 
captains advised.” 

“Where have you placed Ossa and his followers ?” 

“On the Delphos, the quadrireme; she with the four 
banks of oars,” Clitus answered, pointing to the noble 
vessel. 

“There I will go with the Persian embassy. You, Cli- 
tus, take command of a trireme, and Eumenes of the 
other. Ptolemy, Antigonus and Seleucus will each com- 
mand one of the biremes,” Alexander directed, scanning 
the fleet. 

The arrangement being thus perfected, the Prince lost 
no time in escorting Roxana to the waiting barge, and 
the sailors, bending to their oars, soon brought them to 
the side of the stately vessel. Mounting the wooden lad- 
der, Alexander hastened to make such provision for his 
guests as the noble ship afforded. Oxyartes and Roxana, 
in especial honor, he placed in the gilded cabin beneath 
the steersmen, it being the most commodious and least 
exposed place should danger threaten the vessel. 

Having performed this act of hospitality, he sought 
Roxana and led her to a retired part of the deck, there 
to await the departure of the fleet. Nor was it long, for 
scarce had he shown himself than Clitus, giving the 
signal to weigh anchor, the vessels were in a moment 


188 


Iskander 


under way. Reaching the open sea, the ships took preced- 
ence according to their strength, the Delphos taking the 
lead and the triremes, with their three banks of oars and 
lesser force, following on. Behind these the biremes, 
with two banks of oars, came in their turn. Still back 
of these, with some regard to order, came the shallow 
transports with the baggage and slaves and the "‘Hungry 
Horde,’ ^ these last filling the air with their pipes and jovial 
songs. 

As the fleet turned its face to the north with uplifted 
sails, Roxana, laying hold of Alexander and looking to 
her father, exclaimed : 

“If nothing more should come of our mission than 
what has already happened, surely we are every way 
repaid for the long journey.” 

“Let us hope, rather, sweet child, that its pleasures are 
but an omen of success at Pella,” Oxyartes answered, his 
mind concerned with his embassy. 

“Let us believe that it is so, dear father, for at Pella 
we shall have one true friend to frankly welcome us,” 
Roxana answered, the color mounting to her face. 

“Of whom do you speak, my child?” Oxyartes asked, 
surprised. 

“Who else, father, but Alexander, the crown Prince?” 
she answered, catching her breath. 

“Nay, simple child, ’tis a foolish thought. The ambi- 
tion of Philip, the conquering King, is but a summer’s 
dream, ’tis said, to Alexander’s love of arms and greed 
of conquest. Already the aspiring Prince bemoans his 
fate that the King will leave him no worlds to conquer. 
It is from him, sweet child, that Persia has most to fear, 


189 


The Lybian King 

for Philip will not pursue the venture far, being occupied 
at home, but nothing can stay the hand of Alexander, 
once he enters Asia.” 

‘‘Yes! I will stay his hand if need be,” she answered 
confidently, gazing into the face of Alexander, her own 
afire. “For this brave Prince beside you, father, is Alex- 
ander, and to him my vows of love are plighted, never 
to be severed save by death. ’Tis to him I look for deliv- 
erance from the threatened peril,” she went on in an agi- 
tated voice. 

Startled out of himself, and mindful of what he had 
said, Oxyartes stood trembling, overwhelmed by his con- 
flicting emotions. Gaining the mastery, he would have 
fallen upon his knees before the sovereign Prince had not 
Alexander stayed him, exclaiming: 

“I know not the policy of the King, and I can but 
follow where he leads, but for yourself, brave Prince, 
you have naught to fear; and this I pledge you in the 
King’s name,” he concluded, placing his arm about the 
other’s body. 

“Thanks, most noble Prince; I could expect no less 
from you. But it is for Persia that I am here, to avert, 
if I may, the mighty war that threatens her. ’Tis for 
this that my King sends me, and it is this that engages 
all my thoughts,” Oxyartes answered with deep emotion. 

“For the King I can give no pledge, gracious Prince,” 
Alexander answered with grave concern. “Nor for my- 
self being King, for it is not given to men to stay the 
hand of destiny; but for yourself and those you love, I 
pledge you peace and honor. Of Roxana,” he went on, 


190 


Iskander 


grasping her hand, 'tis as she has said, and I, having 
won her as a soldier, would wear her as a King/’ 

To this Oxyartes could for a long time make no an- 
swer, his eyes filling with tears. At last gaining voice, 
he exclaimed, a sob filling his throat : 

‘‘King Philip, your father, generous Prince, will stand 
opposed to such union with all his strength. To him it 
will appear a shameful mesalliance, and if you persist he 
will name another to succeed him. For such a marriage 
fits not with his great ambition or hopes of you,” 
Oxyartes went on, convinced of the truth of all he said. 

“No one shall cheat me of the crown. King of right, 
no power shall keep me from the throne when Philip 
dies,” Alexander cried with flaming eyes, as if already 
facing the dire emergency. 

While they were thus discussing the future, fraught 
with so many perils, the ships responding to Qutstretched 
sail and measured oar, approached within the shadow of 
the Sacred Mountain. Nearing a headland on which a 
forest grew, the sailors who watched saw, at first with 
curiosity and then dismay, slender columns of smoke as- 
cending from the hidden ground. 

“ Twas thus in former days the pirates were wont 
to convey information of passing ships,” Alexander ex- 
claimed, turning to the captain, who was attentively re- 
garding the ascending smoke. 

“Such is still their custom, it would appear, oh Prince,” 
the other replied, not taking his eyes off the shore. “See ! 
There are as many columns as we have armed ships. 
Could better proof be asked?” 

“Look, oh Prince, ’tis a signal to the waiting pirates,” 


191 


The Lybian King 

Clitus cried, elated, from the prow of his vessel, pointing 
to the ascending smoke. 

Turning to the captain, convinced of the truth of what 
was told him, Alexander cried : 

“Hasten and signal the ships to lose no time in pre- 
paring for battle.” 

Doing as he was told, the captain hurried to his post 
and soon the clang of armor and note of preparation 
was heard throughout the fleet, telling that the command 
had been obeyed. Leaving Roxana in care of her father, 
Alexander hastened to join the captain, and soon, on the 
distant horizon, a fleet with all sails set could be plainly 
seen coming rapidly into view. 

“It is Bordollis, the Lybian, as I thought. See his 
crimson sails, which he cares not to hide,” the captain 
exclaimed with animation. 

“I knew not till an hour ago that pirates still frequented 
the coast,” Alexander answered absently as he strove to 
make out the strength of the approaching fleet. 

“Yes, while the King concerns himself with the Gre- 
cian war, and his ships hover about the Athenian fleet, 
Bordollis ravages our borders with bloody hand.” 

“How many do you make out?” Alexander asked, 
unable to determine the number of the enemy. 

“Twenty, if I count aright; ten triremes and as many 
biremes. They come on like sea-gulls, their sharp prows 
parting the water like a knife blade.” 

“This pirate goes to sea in stately array and as a king 
might lead an army,” Alexander exclaimed, scanning the 
fleet with eager eyes. 

“He is a king, oh Prince, but his country being but a 


192 


I skander 


speck on the Lybian shore he ekes out his slender reve- 
nues by piracy, as you see.” 

‘‘As many others have done with less excuse,” Alex- 
ander answered, remembering the tolerance with which 
piracy was regarded by the world. 

“And as they will continue to do, so long as half-savage 
men love gain,” the captain responded, straining his eyes 
to make out the movements of the approaching fleet. 

“They draw apart to form a crescent, the better to 
envelop our lesser number. Signal the commanders to 
close in, forming a wedge behind our ship, the transports 
falling back,” Alexander cried, observing the enemy ex- 
tend his lines. 

“ ’Tis our only hope of victory,” the other responded 
soberly. 

Leaving the captain, Alexander hastened to inspect the 
armament of the ship and make provision far the coming 
battle. Ossa and his sturdy band he found armed and 
waiting on the upraised platform of the middle ship, 
where they were available for attack or defense. Bidding 
them conceal themselves behind the protecting walls, he 
ascended to the iron cages that encircled the strong masts. 
These, as he expected, he found filled with armed men 
and beside them missiles and pots of pitch ready to hurl 
upon the approaching enemy. Reaching the prow of 
the vessel, its covered way was supplied in like manner 
with needed arms for the waiting soldiers. Near them 
missiles and balls of pitch lay about the rude machine 
that stood at hand in readiness to project them upon the 
advancing enemy. Looking down from the prow of the 
vessel, its ram, sheathed with bronze, stood outstretched 


193 


The Lybian King 

in the clear water like the nose of some cruel monster. 
On the ship’s front, in ornamentation, an eagle perched 
its extended wings, and back of it, on either side, images 
of tigers displayed their length with open mouths and 
glistening teeth. Visiting the sides of the noble vessel, 
he found its protected way stored with darts and javelins 
and filled with armed men who stood silently awaiting 
the coming combat. Descending to the hold, Alexander 
traversed the narrow galleries whereon the rowers sat, 
four deep in ranks, one above the other. Captives and 
slaves, chained to their benches, the faces of the unhappy 
creatures wore a stolid look as of men without enterprise 
or hope, doomed to a life of degrading servitude. Of 
these, the more robust filled the upper benches, where 
the long and carefully balanced oars needed greater 
strength of arm and body. Scrutinizing the despairing 
men with pitying eyes, they heeded him not, but turned 
away their faces with looks of sullen discontent. Taking 
his stand with lofty front where all could see and hear, 
he cried with clarion voice : 

‘‘Comrades! Grecians! — Alexander, Prince and lover 
of brave men, speaks to you. He thinks not of birth or 
fortune in the stress of battle. For your unhappy state 
he mourns as for fellow-men. At last your hour has 
struck. Bordollis, the pirate chief, with twenty sail, bears 
down upon us ; the stronger, we may conquer if we fight 
with courage and one mind. For battles ever fall to 
those who sustain the right and strive courageously for 
victory. To you, men of sorrow, victims of our internal 
wars,” he went on, his voice ringing out like a bugle call, 


194 Iskander 

“I grant freedom in the King’s name, from the hour Bor- 
dollis yields.” 

Hearing him, the sullen men sat still, astonishment 
and joy depriving them of utterance. Then, amidst the 
clang of their chains and the sobs that burst from their 
throats, as the thought of freedom stirred their hearts, 
a great shout w^ent up that filled the ship and surrounding 
sea. Saluting them with uplifted sword, Alexander hur- 
ried away to carry like assurance to the other vessels 
of the fleet. Thus he went on, cheers and cries of happi- 
ness following him from ship to ship, as he carried the 
glad message of freedom to the enslaved and despairing 
men. 

Returning, elated at the act of mercy, he hastened to 
Roxana’s side and, saluting her, cried out : 

“Come with me, sweet Princess, and you, Demetrius, 
to the secure room set apart for sacred offices. There 
no harm can reach you. You, too, Lysimachus, come 
with us,” he went on, observing the scared face and 
trembling form of his aged teacher. 

“I would don armor and fight by your side, brave 
Achilles,” Lysimachus answered, with quavering voice; 
“not be cooped up with women and children.” 

“Don your armor, then, if you will, and so defend the 
Princess, with these brave youths,” he answered, running 
his eyes over the waiting pages. “Or if we be overcome,” 
he went on, addressing Demetrius aside, “let not the 
Princess fall alive into Bordollis’ hands.” 

“Think not of me in this hour of danger, Iskander,” 
Roxana cried, knowing his thoughts were of her,' “for if 
you fall I will not survive you. Go, sweet love, for I 


195 


The Lybian King 

already see you victorious and the enemy in flight/' and, 
pulling down his face, she kissed him with confiding love. 
Returning the sweet caress, he lifted his hand in stern 
admonition to Demetrius and the others as he hurried 
from the room. Reaching the deck, he met Oxyartes, 
accompanied by Artabazus and Bessus, each armed and 
clad in steel. 

“We come, oh Prince," Oxyartes exclaimed, “to offer 
you our swords. In this dire struggle ’tis a happy chance 
that we fight in a common cause." 

“We have not many swords," Artabazus interposed, 
“but all are at your command. Place us where you will." 

“Mithrines is missing from our number," Bessus ex- 
claimed, bowing low, “but not willingly. Striving to put 
on his armor despite our remonstrances, he fell in a dead 
faint from weakness, and so lies helpless in his bed." 

Thanking them in the King’s name, Alexander bade 
them stay where they were, the better to guard the Prin- 
cess, or, if mishap occurred, to be at hand to make such 
disposition as need be. To this they assenting, he hurried 
to the prow of the vessel, where the captain stood scan- 
ning the approaching enemy. 

“They change their order of battle, drawing their ships 
together in a mass, hoping to run us down," Alexander 
exclaimed, observing Bordollis’ new formation. “I like 
that better, for thus we can reach them the quicker. See ! 
they lower their sails for attack, the yellow fiends crowd- 
ing the deck as if all Lybia were here. Ah, there goes 
Bordollis’ emblem, blood-red with upright sword and 
flaming torch. Brave King! You show your colors gal- 
lantly." 


196 


Iskander 


Everything being now in readiness, Alexander turned 
about and surveyed his compact fleet, whereon only scat- 
tered sailors were visible to the eye. Satisfied with what 
he saw, he raised his sword as the signal of battle and 
the order to display the Macedonian standard. At this 
the trumpeter, raising his bugle to his lips, gave the shrill 
order to advance. And now the ships coming within 
striking distance, the Macedonian bowmen and darters 
showing themselves, let fly clouds of arrows and javelins 
into the thick ranks of the eager enemy. Approaching 
still nearer, missiles and balls of burning pitch were 
thrown in quick succession on the crowded decks of the 
pirate fleet. Directing his ship’s course, Alexander sought 
to ram Bordollis’ vessel, but the latter, turning swiftly 
to one side, evaded the deadly stroke. Missing the mark, 
the Delphos, shooting forward, struck with crushing blow 
the ship that followed in the pirate’s wake. Splitting 
it asunder, it went down with all its crew ere the assailing 
vessel could wholly free itself from the entangled mass. 
Backing away, the darters swept the decks of the sur- 
rounding ships with flying missiles, while balls of burn- 
ing pitch were hurled upon the vessels further off. Beat- 
ing back the ships that threatened him, the Delphos, 
forging slowly ahead, lay at last beside that of the pirate 
chief. Leaving Ossa to give battle to the enemy on the 
other side, Alexander gave the signal to board the ship 
of the Lybian King. Standing expectant with uplifted 
sword, he sprang upon the enemy’s deck as the ships 
crashed heavily together. Uttering the fierce war-cry of 
their country, the Companions followed, and in a moment 
the air was filled with the clash of arms and fierce cries 


197 


The Lybian King 

of the combatants. Gaining a foothold, the long swords 
of the Companions swept the air as they struck down 
the weapons of opposing foes or forced a way into the 
enemy’s ranks. Spreading out with the precision of 
trained soldiers, that each might have room in which to 
ply his weapon, the pirate crew fighting in a mass, could 
by no means stay their progress. Outnumbering the 
Macedonians, new men seemed to rise from the planks 
to take the places of those who fell. Bordollis, fighting 
in the fore of his vessel, seeing Alexander at the other 
extremity of the ship, pushed his way forward to con- 
front him. The Prince, recognizing the Lybian King 
by his towering height and blood-red plume, disregarding 
all others, sought in like manner to reach his enemy. 
Sweeping aside those who stood in their way, the two 
at last confronted each other in the middle of the deck. 
Uttering a savage cry, they rushed forward, their glitter- 
ing weapons meeting midway in the air. Thus they 
fought with fierce determination, oblivious of all around 
them, but without advantage to either. At last, Bordollis, 
being the taller and stronger, unable to reach his enemy, 
sought to beat down Alexander’s defense by greater 
strength and reach of arm. But the latter, being the 
better swordsman, turned his weapon aside and, taking 
advantage of the opening, sprang forward, piercing the 
other’s breast. But the blow doing no harm save to 
arouse Bordollis, the latter, rushing in anew, with mighty 
stroke sought to cut his enemy down. Springing back, 
Alexander evaded the blow and in return touched the 
mailed front of his enemy with his blade. Unable to 
strike an effective blow and filled with rage, he sprang 


198 


Iskander 


forward, crowding the other back with fast and furious 
play of weapon, but without harm to the Lybian King. 
Alexander, staying his hand, in turn gave way as if ex- 
hausted or grievously hurt. Bordollis, seeing this, 
crowded upon him with eager haste, upon which the 
Prince, lunging, fell suddenly as if stricken, upon his 
bended knee. At this, the Lybian, believing he had re- 
ceived a mortal hurt, rushed on with uplifted sword to 
put an end to the struggle; but Alexander, anticipating 
the blow, leaped forward ere the other’s weapon fell, and 
crying “For the King!” plunged his sword in Bordollis’ 
body. Stricken with death, the pirate chief still sought 
to strike his enemy down, but Alexander, grappling him 
about the waist, hurled him to one side, withdrawing his 
weapon with the action. At this the blood and entrails 
of Bordollis bursting from the gaping wound, he could 
no longer hold himself aloft. Seeing that death ap- 
proached, he lifted himself and poising his ponderous 
blade hurled it full at Alexander’s head. But the latter, 
evading the blow, stood still, watching in pity the dying 
chief as, striving to stay himself, he at last fell forward 
and expired. 

Engaging anew with the enemies about him, the strug- 
gle went on until the pirate crew, losing hope, slowly 
retreated to the ship’s side. Here, offering some slight 
resistance, they turned suddenly about and sprang into 
the sea, hoping thus to gain the side of some friendly ves- 
sel. Springing forward, Alexander struck down Bordollis’ 
standard, but while the air yet rang with the cry of vic- 
tory he lifted his sword aloft to his companions to follow. 
Returning to his own ship he found two of the enemy’s 


199 


The Lybian King 

vessels grappled to its side. Ossa and his companions, 
unable to make head against the double force, fought at 
the ship’s side, keeping those opposed at bay, but accom- 
plishing nothing more. 

Looking down on the enemy, Alexander beheld a sight 
that thrilled him to the heart, for in the midst of the 
pirate crew, back to back, the Persian nobles fought, 
their swords flashing like streams of light as they de- 
fended themselves or struck down an opposing foe. 
Amidst the wild confusion and clash of arms the pipes 
of the ‘‘Hungry Horde” suddenly smote upon Alexander’s 
ear, and while he looked, amazed, the sturdy forms of 
these masterless men showed above the side of the pirate’s 
ship. Reaching the deck, they lost no time, and without 
order or command of any kind charged on the astonished 
foe with such weapons as they had. Cheered by what he 
saw, Alexander turned to his own ship and in its center 
beheld Roxana standing alone, watching her father as 
he struggled in the midst of the savage foe. Angered, 
he looked about for Demetrius and his companions, to 
discover them fighting, with sturdy mien, beside Ossa 
and his brave companions. Behind them, in futile war, 
as if in burlesque, Lysimachus, with shrill cries, struck 
fierce and ineffectual blows at the enemy over the heads 
of those before him. In the midst of the pages, to Alex- 
ander’s great distress, he saw Hephestion, without cover, 
fighting sword in hand, the blood streaming from his 
unhealed wounds. Stirred at the sight, he called to Ossa 
to board the forward vessel, while he, raising his sword 
to the Companions, sprang upon the deck of the hindmost 
ship. Beating back those who stood in their front, the 


200 


Iskander 


Companions raised their fierce war-cry and, spreading 
out, cut down and scattered those before them. The 
pirate crew, assailed in the rear by the ‘‘Hungry Horde’’ 
and Persian nobles, crowded to one side, defending them- 
selves as best they could, neither giving nor asking quar- 
ter. But at last, their leader falling, they turned and 
mounting the ship’s side, leaped into the sea. Giving a 
cry of victory, Alexander and those about him sprang 
upon the forward ship, but the pirate crew, seeing the 
overthrow of their friends, sought not to defend them- 
selves, but, throwing down their weapons, turned like 
the others and plunged into the sea. 

Thus freed, Alexander, calling to his followers with 
sound of trumpet, returned to his own ship, urging it 
forward to where the conflict still continued. Seeing 
this the pirates, disheartened at the fall of their chief and 
the dreadful havoc of the conflict, hoisting all sails steered 
for the open sea. Turning about, Alexander signaled 
the fleet to follow, but not one responded, his vessel alone 
proving to be unharmed. Pursuing the enemy, he quickly 
overhauled the pirate fleet, and seeing this the crews of 
the hindmost vessels threw down their arms and falling 
upon their knees sought their pursuers’ mercy. Sending 
soldiers to take possession of the ships and bidding them 
spare those who yielded, Alexander kept on his way till 
night and the widely scattered enemy rendered further 
pursuit impossible. 

Turning about, Alexander lost no time in rejoining his 
companions, whom he found busied with the care of the 
dead and wounded. Summoning his barge, he hastened 
to the different ships, freeing the slaves and bestowing 


201 


The Lybian King 

everywhere a word of praise or loving inquiry. Return- 
ing at last to his own vessel, and the others presently 
gathering about its side, the newly liberated bondsmen, 
with the others standing on the bloody decks, hailed him 
conqueror with continuous cheers of welcome and ac- 
claim. Tears filling his eyes and choking his utterance, 
he lifted his plumed helmet in grateful thanks. Seeing 
this, all with one accord taking up the paean of victory 
and praise, the wide expanse was filled with the volume 
and melody of the glad song. Afterwards, bringing forth 
the sacred altar and placing it upon the upraised platform 
of the ship where all could see the sacred fire, sacrifice 
was offered by Alexander to Poseidon, the God of the 
Sea, for their deliverance from death. This being com- 
pleted and everything being presently in readiness, the 
ships were turned toward the shore, where they were at 
last anchored for the night. 


CHAPTER XVI. 


THE LION HUNT. 

Early the succeeding morning the liberated slaves, ar- 
raying themselves in linen tunics, hastened to the main- 
land, as if only thus could they be sure that they were 
free. Satisfied, they gave themselves up to joyful play, 
running and leaping in glad abandonment like children 
freed from the tyranny of school. Soon the recollection 
of the past recurring to them, a stadium was formed 
and its boundaries marked. Here the younger and more 
fleet of foot sought to outrival each other in running the 
prescribed distance, while the more stalwart and strong 
of arm threw the discus in eager rivalry. Ruder men, 
emulous of the others, tried their skill and strength in 
wrestling, or competed for mastery with bow and arrow. 
Those who had once been soldiers or followers of the 
sea, taking ground apart, fought mimic battles, or, erect- 
ing targets, tried their skill anew with javelin and lance. 
Those of melancholy mind threw themselves down beside 
the murmuring sea to gaze on Olynthus’ desolate sight, 
from whence, long years before, they had been so cruelly 
wrested. 

The hardy soldiers, unable to sleep in the cramped 
quarters of the ships, had formed a camp beneath the 
spreading trees, and here the lofty tent of Alexander 
stood. But now, the morning being somewhat advanced 
( 202 ) 


The Lion Hunt 


203 


and he having returned to the ship to seek Roxana, his 
tent was deserted save for Demetrius, who sat beneath 
the silken canopy burnishing the helmet of his master. 

“Why waste your time, brave youth, on that seamed 
and battered casque?’’ Clitus cried derisively as he ap- 
proached. 

“ ’Tis a gift I begged of the Prince, and so a thing to 
be prized,” Demetrius responded, intent upon his work. 

“I thought not of its value as a relic, and you do well 
to keep it as a memento of the stirring day.” 

“Yes, it tells the story of the battle and the Prince’s 
part,” Demetrius replied, scanning the now glistening 
casque with admiring eyes. “Some day, when I can 
wear it, I will have these cuts filled with molten gold, 
all save this,” he added, pointing to one near the edge 
of the helmet. “See, ’twas a wicked stroke, and had it 
been a little lower our joy would now be turned to tears 
and cries of sorrow.” 

“Because of that I would the sooner hide it, lest, seeing 
it always, I lost the favor of the Gods for cursing the 
dead pirate.” 

“Such cursing would avail little, Clitus, for ’twas not 
a pirate who aimed the blow.” 

“Eye of Cyclops ! ’Twas a careless friend who handled 
his weapon thus loosely. But so it often happens that 
the flying lance wounds or kills a comrade ere it reaches 
the hated foe,” Clitus answered philosophically. 

“ ’Twas not a lance that hit the casque, but an arrow 
tipped with steel, as you may see,” Demetrius answered, 
holding up the helmet. 

“Therefore the more likely to go astray,” Clitus re- 


204 


Iskander 


sponded, as if no one could be rightly held responsible 
for a thing so uncertain as the flight of an arrow. 

“This was shot by no friendly hand, good Clitus. 
Nor did it go astray, save that striking too high it pierced 
the Prince’s helmet instead of the armor about his throat,” 
Demetrius answered, handing the casque to Clitus. 

Staring blankly, the blood rushed to Clitus’ face and 
throat as he cried : “Who then drew the bow, if, hitting 
the mark, the arrow was not shot by a pirate’s hand ?” 

“Mithrines’ creature and no one else,” Demetrius an- 
swered shortly. “See the bow of Thracian make, and 
here the arrow.” 

“Mithrines’ creature!” Clitus exclaimed, astonished. 
“Give both to me, for they may serve a second time,” he 
went on grimly as he examined the deadly weapon. 

“Be more ready than 1, Clitus, lest another time the 
miscreant’s stroke may not miscarry.” 

“Fear not, brave youth, but tell me how it chanced 
that you were watching when the creature sought to kill 
the Prince?” 

“Do not cry out so, Clitus, for our master will have 
nothing said or done that can give Oxyartes pain,” Deme- 
trius answered, looking away to the stately ship where 
Alexander and Roxana stood, hand in hand, gazing upon 
the animated scene. 

“You are a wise youth in your day, Demetrius, and 
fitly chosen for a place about the Prince’s person. But 
go on, and low, lest the very grasshoppers hear our speech 
and spread the news.” 

“When Bordollis’ ships drew near, the Prince, sum- 
moning the pages, bade us guard the Princess in the sacred 


The Lion Hunt 


205 


room. To this arrangement she assented, but no sooner did 
we touch the pirate ship than all was changed. Hearing 
the Prince’s war-cry as he sprang upon Bordollis’ deck, 
she turned upon us with such a burst of scorn and pas- 
sion as I never heard before from woman’s lips. Ts it 
for such cowardly service,’ she screamed, ‘that you were 
bred? Do gallant men stand idly about a worthless 
woman when others fight for life and honor ? For shame ! 
ioT know you I fear not the strife of battle more than 
the sun’s heat. Come, then, if you be fit to breathe in 
woman’s presence or live in men’s regard,’ and pushing 
us aside, she mounted to the upper deck, we following, 
shame-faced, as if we had done some unmanly thing.” 

“I would not have believed it of the soft thing,” Clitus 
murmured, looking away to where the Princess stood 
beside the Prince. 

“Reaching the deck, her eye sought out the Prince 
and seeing his waving plumes and gleaming sword she 
smiled; but while she looked her eyes fell on Mithrines’ 
slave as he fitted a feathered arrow to his bow. No 
sooner did she spy him than, turning to me, .she cried in 
terror : ‘Quick ! fly to his side, Demetrius, and see that he 
does no treacherous thing.’ ” 

“If she fear not battle, the sweet thing has yet a wo- 
man’s tender heart.” 

“Flying to do as she commanded, I was yet too late 
to stay the wretch’s hand. But ere he could fit another 
arrow to his bow, reaching his side, I drew my sword and 
thrust him through the body.” 

“ ’Twas a gallant blow, brave youth. But the Prin- 
cess? What did she do next?” 


206 


Iskander 


‘^Calling me to her, she placed this chain of gold about 
my neck, and taking me in her arms kissed me on both 
my cheeks,” Demetrius responded, blushing. 

*‘I would it had been me,” Clitus exclaimed aside. 

‘‘Then looking about her and seeing Ossa contending 
against a double force, she cried : ‘Quick, brave youths, 
hasten to aid him in the unequal strife,’ and smiling on 
us as we hurried away, she took her station in the middle 
ship, where she watched the conflict till it closed.” 

“Fit mate for Prince or King,” Clitus cried in admira- 
tion. “But softly, Demetrius ; put by the battered casque, 
for here comes the Prince and the sweet Roxana.” 

“Greeting, brave Clitus!” Alexander cried as he ap- 
proached. “Two vessels captured and a third burned to 
the water’s edge bear evidence of your skill and bravery. 
I know not,” he went on, turning to the Persian envoys, 
as he embraced the sturdy soldier, “whether he be greater 
on land or sea.” 

“The poorest do well when led by so brave a Prince,” 
Clitus answered with modesty. 

“You were skilled in war, Clitus, ere I could hurl a 
javelin or draw a bow. But come, it is agreed, in recom- 
pense for yesterday’s fatigue, that today be given up to 
the pleasure of the chase. Hasten, then, good Clitus, to 
make the needed preparations,” the Prince directed as he 
turned to the Persian envoys, exclaiming; “What say 
you, noble Persians, will you join us in the exciting 
sport?” 

“Thanks, courteous Prince, ’twill be as if we were 
once more in our own country,” Oxyartes cried, his face 
lighting up with pleasure. 


The Lion Hunt 


207 


promise you such adventure as may be found in the 
mountains of Bactria or the wilds of the Sacean country, 
if we be fortunate in our quest,” Alexander exclaimed 
with animation. 

‘That we can hardly hope for, oh Prince,” Artabazus 
answered courteously, “unless, indeed, our Asiatic lion 
haunts the forests about your Sacred Mountain.” 

“In early days the lion was as common as the wolf and 
bear in our northern wilds. And now, war having given 
them some respite, they are as plentiful as when Xerxes 
sought in vain to save his camels from their hungry jaws.” 

The Persian envoys presently taking their leave, Alex- 
ander bade Demetrius hasten to send beaters into the 
mountain to drive the game down into the valley. Then 
turning to Roxana, he cried : 

“You, sweet love, shall watch the hunt from your 
dromedary, that you may be spared fatigue or fear of 
accident.” 

“Would you put me on a camel after what you have 
told us of Xerxes’ beasts of burden? Fie! I thought 
you more tender of me, brave Prince,” she cried as she 
hurried away to don garments suitable for the chase. 

The Thermaic Gulf (now the Gulf of Salonica), on the 
western shore of which Alexander’s fleet lay anchored, 
was then the outlet of Macedonia to the .^gean Sea, 
as it is today. On its eastern shore the narrow peninsula, 
once the center of Grecian wealth and culture, was now a 
black and desolate waste, for of its two and thirty cities, 
Philip, in his strife with Athens, had not left one stand- 
ing to mark the place. All had been looted and given up 
to the flames, their inhabitants being put to death or sold 


208 


Iskander 


to slavery. On the western shore of the Gulf scarce a 
habitation marked the plain and forest that lay in the 
shadow of Olympus. Wars and the scourge of outlaws 
and marauding bands had long since driven its inhabitants 
to seek other homes, so that now it was given up to soli- 
tude and the haunt of savage beasts. It was amid such 
waste of plain and forest so dear to the heart of the 
hunter that the gay cavalcade presently set forth in quest 
of pleasure and adventure. Reaching the edge of the 
forest, those who were to take part in the hunt dismounted 
and armed themselves with such weapons as the nature 
of the sport required. 

“Am I to be set apart to guard the Princess, while 
others join the kingly sport?” Lysimachus cried in simu- 
lated rage, as the hunters were about to take their de- 
parture, leaving him behind. 

“Let him go, oh Prince,” Clitus cried in derision. “The 
hunt were but a poor thing without him, and I need him 
not to guard the Princess.” 

Alarmed that his words should be taken so seriously, 
Lysimachus cried with shaking voice : 

“You could do little without help, good Clitus, were 
some fierce beast to assail the hapless Princess. I would 
fain stay behind, then, to aid you, foregoing the noble 
sport.” 

“Nay, let Lysimachus go if he will, sweet Prince. I 
ask no better protection than Clitus’ strong arm,” Roxana 
cried, amused, turning to Alexander. 

“No, let him remain, lest, as he says, some vengeful 
beast breaking through endanger your very life,” Alex- 
ander answered gently, smiling upon his aged tutor. 


The Lion Hunt 


209 


am her slave, oh Prince, and so beat down the wild 
desire,” Lysimachus responded with a grimace, as he set- 
tled himself on his horse and drew his cloak about him. 

“I would I could share in your sweet contentment,” 
Clitus muttered under his breath, impatient at being left 
behind. 

Soon everything being in readiness, the hunters entered 
the forest, each taking his way, so that everyone might 
have some separate chance. As they advanced within 
the dark shadows of the trees, the cries of the runners-in, 
far up the mountain side, could be plainly heard as they 
drove the frightened animals before them. In this man- 
ner Alexander slowly made his way to the base of the 
heights that loomed above him, without adventure of 
any kind. Then, as he thought to turn his steps, the 
undergrowth parted and a lion, stricken with fear, stood 
trembling before him ; for, however fierce these noble ani- 
mals may be when assailed or driven by hunger, they 
have such fear of man at other times that they will by 
no means attack him or stand to await his movements. 
Seeing the Prince the frightened animal turned to fly, 
but Alexander, lifting his bow, quickly let fly an arrow 
at the bewildered beast. Hitting the mark, the missile 
did no harm save to excite the animal’s rage. Feeling 
the smart, the savage beast uttered a frightful roar as it 
wheeled about and sank to the ground on its outstretched 
legs. Thus it stayed for some moments, but presently 
its rage increasing it moved forward with sinuous step, 
its body hugging the ground, as a cat approaches its prey. 
When in this way it had come some distance it stopped 
and, giving voice to a savage roar, gathered itself for 


210 


Iskander 


the final charge. Anticipating the movement, Alexander, 
poising his javelin, hurled it at the quivering beast. The 
flying missile, true to its aim, pierced the animal’s shoul- 
der, but striking no mortal part, the lion sprang forward 
with dreadful leaps, as if shot from a catapult. At this, 
Alexander, taking firm hold of his hunting spear, braced 
himself for the final onslaught of the enraged animal. 
Coming near, the mighty beast, with a frightful roar of 
rage and pain, shot high in the air, as if to crush its foe 
with its descending weight. Calmly awaiting the dread 
attack, Alexander received the animal on his projecting 
spear, but only to wound the crazed brute, its swift descent 
confusing his eye and weakening the final stroke. The 
lion bearing Alexander back, he grasped his hunting 
knife, holding the animal at bay with his disengaged arm, 
about which his cloak was loosely wrapped. 

While Alexander was thus engaged, Clitus, coming 
up unperceived, beheld the approach of the lion and Alex- 
ander standing motionless before it. As he stopped to 
await the issue of the struggle a movement in the under- 
growth caught his eye, and, thinking an animal threat- 
ened, he drew his bow ready to let fly an arrow, but in- 
stead of savage beast the white face and scowling visage 
of Mithrines’ creature showed itself in the half-parted 
bushes. The intruder, discovering Alexander’s fixed 
attention, advanced with cautious step near to the spot 
where the Prince stood motionless awaiting the lion’s 
onslaught. At last, assured, the base creature stopped 
and, taking firm hold of his hunting spear, poised it aloft, 
prepared to hurl it at his unsuspecting victim ; but while 
the weapon was thus uplifted for the dreadful stroke. 


The Lion Hunt 


211 


Clitus, drawing his bow to its utmost limit, let fly an 
arrow full at the exposed body of the murderous wretch. 
And not in vain, for taking its swift and noiseless flight 
it buried itself to the feathered shaft in the bcydy of its 
victim. 

“A brave shot, for had it missed the Prince’s life had 
paid the forfeit,” Roxana cried in rapture, hastening to 
his side. 

“You here? God of the hills! The Prince will kill me 
for abandoning my charge, once he knows you have been 
brought in danger,” Clitus cried, stricken with remorse 
and fear. 

“Nay, ’twould have made no difference, for I would 
have followed had you stayed behind. But see, Clitus, 
quick! the lion has Iskander down,” she cried in fright 
as she ran forward to where the Prince lay struggling 
with the ferocious brute. 

“Keep back, keep back, lest running in you both be 
killed,” Clitus cried as he drew his hunting knife and 
hurried after her. 

But ere either could reach the Prince’s side, Alexander, 
disengaging his weapon, plunged it to the handle in the 
noble animal’s heart. Dying, the stricken beast relaxed 
its hold and would have crept away, but with the motion, 
its life exhausted, it fell dead beside its prostrate enemy. 

“Lion against Lion, and the better won !” Clitus cried 
in admiration as the Prince sprang to his feet. 

Hastening to Alexander’s side Roxana grasped him in 
her arms her deep emotion depriving her of speech. Sur- 
prised he held her fast, forgetting all save that she was 
there and unharmed. Thus they stood, clasped in each 


212 


Iskander 


other’s arms, their hearts too full for utterance. At last 
disengaging herself she cried: 

’Tis only cowardice, Iskander, that overcomes me.” 

‘‘Cowardice ! brave woman, you know not what it is,” 
he answered, with tender affection, smoothing her dis- 
heveled hair. 

Taking hold of Alexander’s hand and looking down on 
the noble beast she murmured : 

“ ’Twas a foolish thing, Iskander, to attack the animal 
alone, in this hidden place. Our Kings, who know no 
fear, never thus expose themselves when hunting such 
mighty game.” 

“There is little danger, sweet love, if the hunter but 
keep firm hold of his knife and lose not heart,” he an- 
swered, wiping his blade on the green turf. “But is it as 
before, Clitus, that in disobeying my commands, you have 
still obeyed by doing as the Princess ordered?” 

“Do not reproach the brave man, sweet Prince, for I 
was not disposed to stay behind. And fortunate it was, 
that Clitus followed close upon you, for thus he warded 
off the dreadful stroke Mithrines threatened from behind,” 
she cried, looking toward the spot where the assassin 
lay. 

“What mean you?” Alexander exclaimed surprised. 

“See! there lies the wretch, stricken by Clitus’ arrow, 
while in the very act of striking you as you faced the 
other way,” she answered, pointing to the outstretched 
figure. 

“ ’Twas the lion he sought to kill not me, sweet Prin- 
cess. No one could do so cruel a thing.” 

“No! ’twas for you he meditated the stroke.” 


The Lion Hunt 


213 


Tis true, oh Prince, or may I never draw sword 
again,’' Clitus interposed. 

Still thinking them mistaken Alexander hurried to the 
side of the assassin. Kneeling down and discovering 
some signs of life, he lifted the head of the fallen man, 
bathing the pallid face with water from his drinking 
horn. Revived, the wounded man opened his eyes, star- 
ing blankly, seeming not to know where he was or that 
he had been hurt ; but at last, fixing his eyes on Alexander 
and recognizing him, he uttered a frightful cry as he 
sought to push him off. The Prince paying no heed, 
continued to bathe his face with the refreshing water, 
striving the while to soothe his agitation with kindly 
words. Seeing this the other presently lay still, and fix- 
ing his fast fading eyes upon Alexander, cried in a 
choked voice: 

‘‘Know you not, oh Prince, that I sought to kill you ? 
Yes, as my brothers have before me. But all in vain, 
for the Gods have you in their keeping,” he went on, 
pressing his hand to his wounded side. 

“What cause of anger have you against me, unhappy 
man, for surely I have never wronged you?” Alexander 
asked, scrutinizing the other. 

“No. We knew naught of you : 'twas against Philip, 
the King.” 

“The King?” 

“Yes, and a deadly wrong, past all redress. But 
water, water, I must not die ere I confess my sin against 
you.” Alexander moistening his parched lips and bath- 
ing his face, the wretched man, presently reviving, half 
raised himself and fixing his sunken eyes on the Prince’s 


214 


Iskander 


face, cried out : ’Twas at the great siege, the siege of 
Byzantium, where I and my three brothers fought on 
the King’s side. Thus one day when we were absent on 
some pressing duty, thinking no harm, the hipparch and 
his creatures breaking in, bore away our wives. Seeking 
to regain them and revenge the wrong, we killed the 
wretch and those who aided him, in open strife. For 
this the King ordered that we be scourged and afterward 
put to death. Escaping through the connivance of our 
comrades we fled to Sardis, swearing an oath to the Gods 
to do naught in life that did not look to Philip’s death. 
Our story reaching Mithrines’ ears, he gave us employ- 
ment about the castle and, when setting out for Greece, 
attached us to his person. In this way coming upon 
you where the Thebans fought, we thought to kill you 
and thus revenge ourselves upon the King. But now all 
my brothers being dead, I follow, our oath left unful- 
filled. Justly do we die, ye listening Gods, for seeking 
thus to avenge Philip’s crimes,” and ceasing, the unhappy 
man closed his eyes as if in death. Presently opening 
them, he went on with beseeching voice, clutching Alex- 
ander’s hand: ^‘You pardon us, sweet Prince, for we 
were crazed and knew not what we did ?” 

“1 have naught to pardon, wretched man,” Alexander 
answered with broken voice. “Pray to the Gods, for 
naught else can avail you now.” 

To this the other made no response, but fixing his 
glazed eyes on the snow-clad summit of the Sacred Moun- 
tain, he died, murmuring a prayer. When he was dead 
the Prince arose to his feet, his eyes stained with tears. 


The Lion Hunt 


215 


and putting his arm about Roxana’s trembling form, led 
her in silence from the gloomy forest. 

Note. John Williams, the historian, in his account of the Con- 
quest of Persia, describes Alexander’s encounter single-handed and 
on foot, while on a hunting excursion, with “an enormous lion which, 
roused from its lair faced the young King.” Alexander, bidding his 
companions retire, “receiving the animal’s spring on the point of his 
hunting spear with so much judgment and coolness that the weapon 
entering a vital part proved instantly fatal.” The danger of the 
encounter was so great, however, that at a solemn assembly of the 
nobles and officers of the Macedonian army, it was decreed that 
thenceforth the King should not combat wild beasts on foot nor hunt 
without being personally attended by a certain number of great of- 
ficers. The same historian goes on to say that this was not the first 
time in which Alexander’s life had been endangered by wild beasts, 
and refers to a hunting piece in bronze where the King is fighting 
with a lion while Craterus is seen hastening to his assistance. 


CHAPTER XVII. 


THE PRINCESS PARCLEDES. 

On his return to the camp, Alexander, grieved and 
saddened by what had occurred, gave orders for the im- 
mediate departure of the fleet. Thus in the early night 
the anchors were weighed and the ships responding to 
sail and oar quickly glided into the open waters of the 
gulf. Turning their prows to the north, those who 
looked could see, far to the east, Athos’ lonely height as 
it glimmered, a mere speck on the moon-lit waters. 
Nearer by, the plains of Chalcidice wasted by Philip’s 
conquering armies, showed like a black line across the 
blue of the eastern sky. Here, where a little while before, 
populous cities and smiling hamlets met the eye, only the 
cries of savage animals now disturbed the silence of the 
night. Not that Philip was more cruel than men of his 
time, but that his aims and ambitions were greater, and 
the means he used commensurate with the abuses to be 
remedied. While others, wrangling over the rights of 
petty states, kept Greece disturbed, Philip, wise and mas- 
terful, brought all under subjection to a common purpose. 
While Grecian leaders declaimed or dreamed of peace 
and strength without unity, he alone knew that it was 
but a phantasy of the mind. Offering security to all, he 
laid his mighty hand on those who sought to perpetuate 
the political evils of the past. Such was Philip, the King 
of men. But Alexander, his son and heir, forgetful of 


The Princess Parcledes 


217 


his part, no longer dreamed of men or governments. His 
thoughts were of his love, the sweet Roxana, who was 
thenceforth to form the silver lining to the black cloud 
of war that in a few short months would claim him for 
the remainder of his eventful life. Beyond the Asiatic? 
border he saw only her image; and, seeing it thus in the 
golden light of love, its conquest so long dreamed of, was 
forgotten in the happiness of the present moment. Of 
this the Persian King knew naught and intent upon the 
destruction of those who threatened him, all that the 
golden hoards of Persia could accomplish he freely gave 
in the accomplishment of his set purpose. Mithrines, his 
pliant tool, baffled in the attempts already made to destroy 
the Prince, now impatiently awaited his arrival at Pella 
for a more favorable opportunity; for there, amid the 
strivings and bitter hatreds of Philip’s court, he doubted 
not he would be able to accomplish both the King’s and 
Alexander’s death. Roxana’s jealous love, early divin- 
ing his murderous purpose, sought in vain to warn the 
Prince, but he, di’sdaining his enemy, only smiled upon 
her fears or stilled them with a kiss. 

Such was the threatening aspect in Macedonia’s kingly 
life, when Alexander’s noble ship turned its sharp prow 
into the placid waters of the Lydias. Far in advance of 
the attendant vessels, she plowed her swift way toward 
the capital, paying no heed whatever to those that fol- 
lowed. Thus it was in the early morning as Alexander 
and Roxana standing in the prow of the Delphos, all 
unconscious of those about them, watched the unfolding 
landscape with eager interest. 

‘There! sweet Princess,” Alexander at last exclaimed. 


218 


Iskander 


pointing to the north, “in the center of this wide expanse 
lies Pella; and our journey’s end,” he concluded with 
sorrowing voice, as if wishing the capital were at the 
further extremity of the kingdom. 

“ ’Tis a peaceful plain wherein nothing disturbs the 
sweet repose,” she answered softly, surveying the smiling 
landscape whereon no house or man appeared. 

“No, for here it is as nature left it save where some 
rude shepherd guards his flocks or the hunter stalks his 
game. But some day, and not far distant,” Alexander 
responded, as if in excuse of the King for locating his 
capital in the wide expanse, “farms and noble habitations 
will dot the verdant plain now given up to solitude.” 

“I like it better as it is, for man only disfigures Nature’s 
handiwork by his presence.” 

“If that be true of men ’tis not so of women, sweet 
Princess, as will presently appear — if indeed, she hides 
not her sweet face behind the door,” Clitus here inter- 
posed with the freedom of a soldier; for that brave 
and ingenuous man, liking not the separation from the 
Prince, had early asked to be transferred to Alexander’s 
ship; and this being granted, he now stood near the 
Prince and Roxana as the Delphos swiftly traversed the 
windings of the picturesque stream. 

Making no reply, Alexander and his companion stood 
still, well knowing that Clitus in his own good time 
would explain the meaning of his words. Nor was it 
long delayed, for approaching an obscure place in the 
river, he cried in rapture: 

“There it is ! The very spot, with its ambuscade and 
close cover of trees and willows !” 


The Princess Parcledes 219 

“What is it, good Clitus, for I can see nothing?” 
Roxana asked, scanning the river in their front. 

“The abode of Eurydice, the fairy of the plain, sweet 
Princess,” Clitus answered, mounting to the top of the 
covered way. 

“I see no house nor sign of one,” Roxana answered 
doubtingly. “Or does she live in some enchanted cave 
or hidden grotto?” she queried with smiling countenance. 

“Come hither if you will, sweet Princess, for the hut is 
hidden by the undergrowth from where you stand. See !” 
he went on, pointing to an opening in the trees as the 
Prince and Roxana joined him on the elevated platform, 
“a house, strong as a fortress and rough as the face of a 
weather-beaten cliff. There, within that roomy and ill- 
built hut the fairy lives.” 

“Alone? Or has she some gentle companion to keep 
her company?” Roxana asked, pleased at Clitus’ speech. 

“With her mother, who, robed in black, with pale and 
melancholy visage, might be the guardian of the spirit 
world,” Clitus replied, as if reciting from some Grecian 
tragedy. 

“I know the hut,” Alexander interposed, scanning it 
attentively, “and have often found shelter for the night 
beneath its roof when hunting in the wide expanse. 
’Twas once the lodge of Alexander, built by him whai 
Mardonius, the Persian general, held Northern Greece 
in bondage. Here the brave King lived in retirement 
that he might be near the Grecian border and yet not 
have it known that he was there.” 

“Do the Macedonian Kings still make some use of the 
lonely habitation?” Roxana asked with curious intei'est. 


220 Iskander 

‘‘No! ’twas given up to the bats and owls a hundred 
years or more ago.” 

“And the fairies, Iskander,” Roxana exclaimed, turn- 
ing to Clitus. 

“Built by the great King,” Clitus interposed with senti- 
mental voice, “when his throne rocked in the balance 
like a reed in the wind, it now offers asylum to his 
stricken descendants. For such is its present use, oh 
Prince,” Clitus went on soberly, as if not caring to pro- 
long the mystery. 

“You jest, Clitus, for the hut was long since abandoned 
as I say.” 

“To be occupied anew, please you, sweet Prince. For 
’twas there we carried Orestes when so foully set upon. 
Bearing him to the door we were admitted by Eurydice, 
the fairy Princess, when who should presently appear, 
but her mother, the widow of Menetaus, the King’s half 
brother. He who fell at the sacking of Olynthus,” Clitus 
concluded, not caring to be more explicit as to the man- 
ner of the Prince’s death. 

“The Princess Parcledes!” Alexander exclaimed in 
astonishment. “I knew not that she survived her hus- 
band.” 

“I remember the Prince as if it were but yesterday, 
though twenty years and more have passed since he fled 
the country,” Lysimachus here interposed with melan- 
choly voice. 

“What manner of man was he?” Alexander asked, 
greatly interested in the history of the unhappy Prince. 

“A shapely, sad-eyed man, with flaxen hair and kingly 
mien,” Lysimachus answered. “Amyntas, his father. 


The Princess Parcledes 221 

fearing for his life, sent him as a youth to Athens to be 
educated. But when the King died and the throne be- 
came vacant, the Attic chatterers, for purposes of their 
own, encouraged him to lay claim to the crown. Thus 
it happened that he was finally brought into conflict with 
Philip to his utter undoing.’’ 

‘‘ ’Tis his widow, the Princess Parcledes who now 
occupies the hut and who received and nursed Orestes,” 
Clitus added with emphatic voice. 

''But ’twas reported that she was lost at Olynthus and 
Eurydice, her child, as well,” Alexander answered, sur- 
prised at what he heard. 

‘‘So it has been supposed, oh Prince. But Menetaus, 
wise and prudent, fearing a disastrous end to the siege, 
early sent the Princess and his daughter with all his 
treasures to Athens. There they remained after his death 
until at last Parcledes petitioning King Philip for per- 
mission to return to her own country, he gave her this 
abandoned lodge of the old King for a habitation, promis- 
ing her protection so long as she did not meddle with 
affairs of state.” 

“If what you say be true ’twould be a discourteous act 
to pass her door without some kindly greeting,” Alex- 
ander exclaimed, and signaling the ship to stop he called 
to the captain to man the barge. 

“Come, Roxana, you shall accompany me. ’Tis a 
happy chance that throws these distressed women across 
your gentle path,” and bidding Clitus attend them they 
descended and took their places in the waiting barge. 

“The shore which swarmed with slaves when I was 
here before, now seems strangely still,” Clitus exclaimed. 


222 


Iskander 


peering forward, as the barge shot through the willows 
that hid the landing from the river. 

‘Well it may, Clitus, for the place is beset by a maraud- 
ing band,” Alexander cried pointing to the open space 
back of the hut, where armed men surrounded the Prin- 
cess and her daughter. 

“Beard of Cyclops ! ’tis the Dardanian mercenaries, as 
you may see by their short swords, who deserted the 
King’s standard at Cheronea.” 

Returning no answer, Alexander grasped the bugle 
that hung by his side, and placing it to his lips blew the 
call of the Companion Cavalry. Not waiting response, 
or for the barge to come fully to shore, he leaped into 
the shallow stream followed by Clitus. Drawing their 
swords with the cry “For the King,” they rushed upon 
the marauding band ; but the latter recognizing the Com- 
panion call, abandoned their prey and mounting their 
horses in hot haste fled over the hill in wild confusion. 
Roxana following on and presently rejoining Alexander, 
they hastened to the side of Parcledes and her daughter, 
and putting their arms about the distressed women, com- 
forted them with soothing words and promises of protec- 
tion. Parcledes at last recognizing Alexander by some 
word of Clitus, dropped on her knees and pulling her 
daughter down beside her, covered his hands with tears 
and kisses. 

“Weep not, nor kneel to me, sweet cousin,” Alexander 
exclaimed with gentle voice, as he lifted them to their 
feet and clasped them in his arms. “Our kingly house 
has not so many princesses that those bereft and unhappy 
should lack the love and protection of their kindred,” and 


The Princess Parcledes 


223 


partly leading and partly supporting Parcledes, they 
gained the cover of the house. Roxana, following slowly 
with Eurydice, so won upon the frightened child by her 
gentle ways and tender sympathy, that ere they had 
traversed half the distance the young girl’s confidence 
and love was all her own. Entering the spacious room, 
Alexander turning to Parcledes exclaimed with gentle 
voice : 

‘‘How comes it, sweet cousin, that you live thus isolated 
and unguarded ? Surely it is not the King’s doing ?” 

“No. ’Tis my own act, for I chose this royal house 
in preference, and doing so Philip assented to my pro- 
posal. Nor would another abode have saved me from 
the chance attack, for ’twas not the act of robbers as you 
think, but comes from those who seek the life of the 
gentle youth, Orestes.” 

“Orestes ! Who could wish to do him further harm,” 
Alexander exclaimed, surprised at her speech. 

“I know not, except that spies haunting the thickets 
about the hut, have sought information from my slaves 
regarding the poor youth for a week or more; and today 
the marauding band breaking down my doors, demanded 
that he be delivered up to them. Happily, seeing their 
approach and fearing their errand, we had hid the youth 
in Alexander’s secret chamber.” 

“What followed when they found him gone, sweet 
cousin, if the telling does not distress you?” 

“Filled with rage, the leader of the band espying 
Eurydice, seized upon her and bore her away. I, fol- 
lowing, begged on my knees not to be separated from my 
child; and thys you found us,” the unhappy woman an- 
swered, clasping her daughter in her arms. 


224 


Iskander 


While they were occupied in this manner Clitus ap- 
proached and being welcomed by Parcledes, he lost no 
time in making inquiries concerning Orestes for whom 
he had been vainly searching. 

“Thinking him in danger we concealed him, good 
Clitus, in Alexander’s strong room where he now lies 
attended by the faithful leech.” 

“I would I might see and comfort the brave youth,” 
Clitus answered, distressed at what she said. 

“I will show you the way and gladly if I may,” Eury- 
dice interposed, hurrying forward, a blush mantling her 
fair cheeks. 

“The very guide I would have chosen, sweet Princess,” 
Clitus exclaimed gallantly, saluting the gentle maid. 

Hastening into an adjoining room and opening a hid- 
den door she led him to an upper room. Here by the 
dim light he discovered Orestes lying pale and haggard 
on a cot. Seeing him the brave youth uttered a feeble 
cry, as he sought to grasp Clitus’ outstretched hands. 

“Eye of Cyclops ! sweet child, take it not so much to 
heart,” Clitus cried with moist eyes. “ ’Tis the fate of 
soldiers and in a little while you will be about your busi- 
ness as before. Is it not so?” he went on, turning to 
Jaron, who, bending over Orestes’ wasted- body, sought- 
to stay the blood which slowly trickled from the reopened 
wound. 

“Let us hope so, good friend,” Jaron answered ab- 
sently, as he busied himself over the wounded man, “but 
the strife below and the cries of women came near to 
costing the youth his life,” and beckoning Eurydice to 
Orestes’ side he bade her soothe him into sleep, or some 


The Princess Parcledes 225 

forgetfulness, “for otherwise I see no hope of staying 
the flow of blood.” 

Doing as she was told, the gentle maid threw herself 
on her knees, and placing her face beside Orestes’, 
smoothed his hair comforting him the while with words 
of encouragement and tender sympathy, so that presently 
responding to the soft caress, he fell off into a gentle 
slumber. Seeing this, Jaron rested and turning to Clitus, 
asked : 

‘‘How happened it, brave man, that you brought relief 
and in the very nick of time?” 

“ ’Twas not I, Jaron, but the Prince, who stopped to 
pay Parcledes a visit as he passed, and the outlaws hear- 
ing the Companion call, scattered like a flock of crows.” 

“ ’Twas a happy visit, Clitus, for I could not have 
escaped from this vaulted chamber unaided- more than 
from the depths of Plades,” Jaron answered, scanning the 
massive walls. 

“The Prince’s coming is ever a happy chance. But 
of this poor youth, good friend; when may we look 
to see him resume his duties about the palace?” 

“Never!” Orestes cried, awaking, “so long as Amyn- 
tas lives and has the King’s favor.” 

“Lie still, poor boy. ’Tis not a thing to think of now,” 
Jaron mildly interposed, motioning Eurydice to calm the 
stricken youth. “Of the wound,” he went on, “ ’twill be 
months, perhaps a year in healing.” 

“Then it was more serious than you thought?” 

“The hurt? No. But the javelin was poisoned and 
so the whole body became infected.” 

“Poisoned!” Clitus cried incredulously. 


226 


Iskander 


“Yes, as I say. But go,” the leech exclaimed, motion- 
ing Clitus back, “the wound has ceased to bleed. Leave 
us that the youth may have some rest ere I move him to 
the room below.” 

Pressing Jaron's hand Clitus took his departure, sorely 
distressed in mind by what he had seen and heard. 
Descending to the room below he found Alexander and 
Roxana gone, but not before the Prince had placed a 
secure guard about the hut to save the Princess from 
further harm. Commending Orestes to Parcledes’ fur- 
ther kindness Clitus hurried on, threatening the soldiers 
with his displeasure as he passed, if they in any way 
relaxed their watchful guard. Nearing the shore great 
was his astonishment to come upon the noble Ossa 
bathed in tears and clasping a sobbing woman tenderly to 
his heart. Unmanned, Clitus stopped, staring in wonder, 
for beneath their tears there beamed such love and hap- 
piness that he could liken it to nothing he had even seen 
before. Observing him Ossa sought in vain for words, 
so deeply was he stirred. At last, after many efforts to 
control his voice, he exclaimed, with broken speech : 

“This slave, good Clitus, is my wife, torn from me 
when my people were overcome and scattered by Philip's 
army,” and bending over he pressed her face to his as 
if he would hold it thus forever. 

Overcome, his eyes wet with tears, Clitus, bewildered, 
put his arms about the happy pair in loving embrace. 
Then motioning Ossa to remain he hastened speechless 
to the waiting ship, murmuring a grateful prayer to the 
Gods for what he had seen and heard. 


CHAPTER XVIIL 

ALEXANDER'^S RETURN TO PELLA. 

Advancing from the cover of the trees that hid the 
river about Parcledes' hut, the plain of Pella burst sud- 
denly upon the view of those who watched from the 
decks of the stately ships. Seeing the white city out- 
spread on the sloping hill, Roxana cried : 

“Is it the capital, Iskander, or some desert mirage that 
dazzles our eyes and fools our senses ?” 

“ ^Tis the city, sweet love; and to the left the palace 
of the King,” he answered, his face lighting as he con- 
templated the city where he was born and reared. 

“It is like a picture, with its background of circling 
mountains and verdant plains,” she cried enraptured. 

“Yes, and on the rim of yonder height,” he exclaimed, 
indicating the spot, “lies Edessa, the other and older 
capital and the burial place of the kings.” 

“Why did you move from thence into the hot and 
dusty plain?” she asked, looking away to the cool and 
restful mountain. 

“To wean the people from the rude and half savage 
life of shepherds,” he answered with upraised head. 
“Hidden in the mountain valleys in unfriendly isolation, 
the King wished them to look abroad, to gaze upon the 
open sea, which before they might not reach without 
traversing the soil of an unfriendly power; and seeing 

( 227 ) 


228 


Iskander 


it, sweet Princess, they sought possession and so have 
overrun all Greece.” 

“Did the King achieve all this unaided?” 

“Yes, and despite the will of those he sought to benefit. 
The rude, unkempt herdsmen, watching their flocks in 
lonely glens or on the sides of rugged mountains, he 
brought down into the verdant plain and gave them 
implements of trade and husbandry. Without shelter, 
save caves or huts of mud and stone, they now have 
dwellings. Clad in untanned skins he gave them cloaks 
and woolen garments. Beset by barbarous enemies, he 
taught them the use of sword and spear. Without order 
in battle, he schooled them in the art of war and when 
they had learned the lesson well, led them at last to vic- 
tory,” Alexander answered, exalted at the great achieve- 
ment. 

“Did Iskander have no part in this, sweet Prince?” 
Roxana asked with a loving smile. “Every good you 
ascribe to the exalted King, and rightly, too. But Clitus, 
whose frankness knows no cover, is not at such pains to 
give Philip credit for things the son has done.” 

“The King inspires all and so the credit is rightly his. 
But look! They throw open the gates of the city, and 
the people crowd forth to enjoy a holiday and give us 
greeting.” 

“And see! the river is filled with barges gaily deco- 
rated, hastening to welcome you,” Roxana exclaimed, 
her face aflame that the Prince should be thus honored. 

Soon the clang of armor and the strains of martial 
music reaching their ears, they beheld the soldiers hurry- 
ing to the river bank to meet and welcome their beloved 


Alexander’s Return to Pella 229 

Prince. Alexander bringing his ship to land, the noisy 
throng, ci-ying his name, hastened on board to greet and 
crown him with the garland of victory ; the citizens com- 
ing after and crowding close upon the eager soldiers, 
now joined their loud huzzahs in joyful welcome of the 
Prince’s safe return. Standing in the middle deck, Alex- 
ander smiled and bowed his grateful thanks, his heart 
stirred with love and pride. While thus they watched 
and cheered, Alexander, taking the garland from off his 
head, wound about it the crimson scarf that decked the 
throat of Roxana, who stood beside him. Observing 
what he did and seeing the sweet face of the smiling 
Princess, the multitude raised a shout of admiration that, 
reaching across the level plain, re-echoed from the walls 
of Philip’s lofty citadel. 

When the wild excitement had in some measure sub- 
sided, Alexander, saluting and thanking the multitude, 
gave the signal for the fleet to proceed. At this the vast 
throng, turning about and following on the river bank, 
raised their voices with one accord, chanting the national 
hymn. Hearing the glad song, Roxana, unable to restrain 
the tears of joy that filled her eyes, turned to Alexander, 
exclaiming : 

“ ’Tis as if every one saw in you a son or cherished 
brother, Iskander.” 

“Such I am to them, sweet Princess. For here I have 
lived all my life, and in such intimacy that they look upon 
all I do as if they, themselves, had planned it.” 

“Surely no Prince was ever more loved than you,” she 
exclaimed, as the multitude seeing Alexander replace his 
plumed helmet, cried in wild delight : 

“Cheronea ! The Prince ! The King ! The King !” 


230 


Iskander 


“Hear you that, Iskander,” Roxana exclaimed, grasp- 
ing Alexander’s hand, her face paling, as if to call him 
King were an offense that would cost her companion his 
life, as indeed it would have done in Persia. 

“ ’Tis nothing, for they have often thus saluted me 
when the King was by. And he, no way offended, joined 
as heartily as the others in the compliment,” Alexander 
answered, as if it were not a thing to notice. 

“If that be so, he must indeed be great,” she answered, 
not comprehending how such confidence could exist 
between a ruler and his waiting heir. 

“He is, sweet Princess. So great, indeed, that he 
esteems himself a God. But ’tis not that, for till now we 
have been more like loving brothers than aught else.” 

“Why do you say ‘till now’ ?” she queried with anxious 
face. 

“I know not why, sweet love, except as whisperings 
have reached me of some possible change in the King’s 
mind, brought about by the intrigues of the court,” Alex- 
ander answered, as if it were not a thing likely to be true, 
or of great consequence. 

While they were thus speaking the barge of the Prince 
Amyntas drew near and he, mounting Alexander’s ship, 
hastening to his side, cried out : 

“Hail victorious Prince! Acclaim, and loving wel- 
come back to Pella !” 

“Thanks, sweet cousin, I accept the greeting as from 
a brother’s heart,” Alexander answered, embracing him. 
“So, too, will the Princess Roxana, who comes as the 
Nation’s guest in the train of the Persian embassy,” 
Alexander answered, bending before her in low obeisance. 


Alexander’s Return to Pella 231 

‘‘Welcome to Pella, sweet Princess, and doubly so 
coming by the side of our victorious Prince,” Amyntas 
answered, doffing his plumed hat as he bent low before 
her. 

“The good fortune of visiting Macedonia has been 
reserved to me of all my countrywomen, and so, because 
of it, I esteem the honor all the greater,” she answered, 
blushing under Amyntas’ close scrutiny. 

“There has been little intercourse of any kind between 
our country and the Persian Empire, fair Princess, but 
the King and his royal son promise to change all this in 
the near future,” he answered pleasantly, as if his words 
conveyed no sinister meaning. 

“We Persians have looked on from afar at the great 
deeds of your exalted King, and come now to crave his 
friendship as one would an honor and a privilege,” 
Roxana replied, as if noticing nothing amiss in what the 
other said. 

“In that spirit the embassy, animated by love and 
friendship, will ere long crave your kind offices, Amyn- 
tas, as they will that of all lovers of peace,” Alexander 
interposed with generous frankness. 

“Do they expect aid from you in such a thing, oh 
Prince?” Amyntas answered, eyeing Alexander. 

“The embassy is inspired by motives so weighty and 
exalted that everyone must give heed to what they say, 
good cousin.” 

“Are the fixed purposes of a great and war-like nation, 
oh Prince, to be weighed anew and turned aside, it may 
be, by soft words and futile promises? I cannot believe 
it possible,” Amyntas exclaimed in a harsh voice. 


232 


Iskander 


“They come to further an alliance of mutual advantage, 
good cousin, and not as suppliants. Through them Per- 
sia, so long isolated, now seeks the friendship of Mace- 
donia, its equal in station,’’ Alexander answered, the color 
deepening in his face. 

“What enchantment, what sorcery, oh Prince, leads 
you to speak thus of their endeavor? Surely you must 
have some revelation from the King or the Gods that 
your fiery temper is so soon changed to complaisant ease,” 
Amyntas cried in scorn. 

To this Alexander made no reply, save to dismiss the 
other with a wave of his hand. Backing away, Amyn- 
tas crimsoned at the rebuff, for, owing to the King’s 
favor he exercised almost regal power and was treated 
with servile deference by all who frequented the court. 

“Is that Perdiccas’ son, who, except for Philip would 
now be King?” Roxana asked with anxious face. 

“Yes, the most valiant of Princes, the puissant Amyn- 
tas, Perdiccas’ son and heir! Did you like him, sweet 
Princess?” Alexander asked smiling. 

“No, Iskander, for he is your deadly enemy,” she ex- 
claimed, her eyes expressing her dislike more plainly 
than her words. 

“He has every reason to think kindly of me, Roxana, 
for I have often befriended him when the labor was a 
burden,” Alexander answered, recalling Amyntas’ dis- 
content and moody ways, and the King’s former dislike. 

“He is no friend of yours, Iskander, for his eyes be- 
tray his hatred. Nor can he be much blamed; but you, 
secure in the people’s love no longer think of him as 
claimant to the throne, forgeting thus his mortal griev- 


Alexander’s Return to Pella 233 

ance. And so you rest at east while he schemes for your 
destruction,” she went on, as if the politics of Macedonia 
were already a thing at her finger’s end. 

‘‘No, I cannot believe he meditates me harm, for at 
Cheronea, when a Theban threatened my life, Amyntas 
coming up as I stooped, hurling his lance, killed my assail- 
ant where he stood,” Alexander answered, as if nothing 
morfe could be said. 

“Oh frank and loyal Prince, ’twas against you the 
lance was aimed,” Roxana cried, her love and suspicion 
of Amyntas divining the truth. Plearing her Alexander 
started, disturbed in spite of himself at what she said, 
when he reflected on the circumstances of the battle. 
“My love is not deceived, Iskander. He is no more your 
friend than the renegade Mithrines who, now that your 
rank is known, professes to honor and admire your 
princely character. But ’tis only pretense, sweet love; 
he hates you and will harm you if he can,” Roxana went 
on, as if she would force her love to see his enemies with 
her eyes. But Alexander, like Philip, brave to rashness, 
thought no harm could reach him and so, smiling, dis- 
missed the subject. 

In this way the fleet at last approached the citadel, 
where the chamberlain of the King came forward and 
saluted Alexander with humble deference. Presenting 
him to the Princess and the members of the embassy, the 
exalted offlcial conducted them, with stately ceremony, 
to the quarters set apart for their residence within the 
lofty fortress. Alexander, at last free, lost no time in 
hastening to greet the Queen, who had long impatiently 
awaited his coming. No sooner did she catch sight of 


234 


I skander 


his waving plumes and glistening armor than, motioning 
those about her to withdraw, she advanced with open 
arms to receive and welcome him. Speechless and 
trembling she clasped him to her breast, tears filling her 
eyes and sobs choking her utterance; for, in the troubled 
life of this great and most unhappy Queen, Alexander 
only, through the great love she bore him, held her 
haughty nature and half savage heart in sweet subjec- 
tion. For Philip, whom she once loved as the tigress 
does its mate, she now felt only impassioned scorn and 
deadly hatred. Thus animated, like one apart, she wel- 
comed the return of her son as the shipwrecked sailor, 
tossed by angry waves, welcomes the one who comes to 
cheer and succor him. Regaining her composure in some 
degree, she put her arms about the Prince, kissing his 
face and hair again and again with tender eagerness. 
Then, clasping his face in both her hands, she looked 
long and steadfastly into his smiling eyes, as if she would 
make sure she still held his love. At last, convinced, she 
took his hands in hers and kissing them with hungry 
eagerness, exclaimed: 

‘AVelcome, dear son, to Pella and your mother’s heart! 
For the starving shepherd, wandering aimlessly amid 
our mountain mists, looks not forward to food and rest 
as my heart hungers and thirsts for your presence and 
love.” 

‘‘Knowing this, exalted Queen, I have been remiss in 
lingering by the way, little regarding your loneliness or 
the love that watched for my return,” he answered, plac- 
ing his arm about her and caressing her with tender affec- 
tion. For, unaccountable as it appeared to the frequent- 


Alexander’s Return to Pella 235 


ers of the court, this proud and sensitive Prince loved 
his mother as if she possessed every virtue known to 
womankind. 

‘‘You only understand me, Alexander; you only see 
my heart and know its fierce longing for love and trust- 
ing confidence,” she answered, hei* eyes gleaming with 
savage hatred at the thought of the neglect in which 
she lived. 

“All men shall know your greatness, oh Queen, for the 
people love me and in this love you shall doubly share,” 
he answered, pushing back the mass of yellow hair from 
about her troubled face. 

“This sweet dream can never be, Alexander, though 
you beg the boon on bended knee. Philip no longer loves 
me and the multitude seeing his coldness ascribe the 
cause to fault of mine. His aversion is open and the 
sycophants that throng the court seeing this, treat me 
with rude neglect or cold discourtesy. But why do I 
burden you with the woes of an abandoned woman, who 
no longer has a place in the world, nor wishes one save 
for the honor of her beloved son. There ! sweet, do not 
answer, for I know well what you would say. Go rest 
and refresh yourself, but be not too long gone, for no 
comforting thought stirs my tired heart when you are 
absent,” and putting her arms about him in fond affection, 
she dismissed him with tears and tender caresses. 


CHAPTER XIX. 


PHILIP, KING OF MACEDON. 

Philip, to make sure his domination of Greece and in 
avoidance of the Persian embassy, long delayed his re- 
turn to Pella. Meanwhile Oxyartes and his associates 
fretted away their time in idle discourse, unable to make 
any headway whatever in the great object of their visit. 
At last, news having come that Philip might shortly 
return, every one was stirred to life in expectation of 
the event; for this great and restless monarch, amid his 
drunken revels and sensual debaucheries, was yet so filled 
with mighty projects and kingly ambitions that no one 
could forecast what was to come, except as it stood re- 
vealed. Thus, one morning — and sooner than had been 
thought — the King, with an escort of horse and riding 
at full gallop, drew rein at the entrance to the fortress. 
His coming being unknown save by the guard and the 
slaves loitering about the entrance, he hurried unob- 
served to his apartments to bathe and refresh himself. 

Philip at this time was forty-one years of age and in 
the twenty-first year of his reign. Second in the line of 
succession, he had been in his youth in extreme peril of 
his life from the ambition of the Regent, Ptolemy. At 
the age of fifteen he was sent to Thebes, then the domi- 
nant power of Greece, as a hostage, where he remained 
three years, observing men and studying the science of 
government. In familiar intercourse, during these years 

( 236 ) 


237 


Philip, King of Macedon 

with the Theban generals, Epaminondas and Pelopidas, 
the greatest military leaders of the age, he learned from 
them the art of war. Afterwards, when he became King, 
he extended and improved upon their methods in the 
organization of the Macedonian Army, making it the 
most effective then known to men. 

Of the pre-eminence that Philip attained and the ag- 
grandizement of his country that followed, there are few 
if any parallels in history. A usurper upon the throne, 
without wealth or followers, he had no source of strength 
in the early years of his reign save in his ability to inspire 
men with confidence in his leadership and belief in the 
great destiny that awaited him as King. So impoverished 
was his country at this period that the only thing of 
value the King possessed, with which to bribe an enemy 
or tempt a friend, was a silver goblet. This, like a hungry 
miser, he concealed at night beneath his pillow. It is 
said of him by his enemies — the historians — that so 
transcendent were his talents and so great his power over 
others that, when face to face with men, he had such 
semblance of honesty, so ingenuous an appearance of 
candor, so open and transparent a countenance, that all 
save the more astute trusted his word without question. 
Yet it is claimed, and doubtless truthfully, that he was 
never sincere in anything he said or did throughout all 
his life, when his interests were better served by conceal- 
ment or misrepresentation. In this way and through his 
great ability to influence or beguile men, he cemented his 
power, while he allayed the fears of his enemies or led 
them hopelessly astray. Thus, without other resources 
than his courage and wisdom and subtle craft, he organ- 


238 


Iskander 


ized and extended his kingdom until it finally dominated 
all Greece, as it already held in subjection the savage 
tribes that bordered upon Macedonia. No great monarch 
known to history, with aims so transcendent and far- 
reaching, ever lived a life of greater simplicity. In inti- 
mate companionship with his officers and those about the 
throne, all, nevertheless, yielded him blind obedience, 
respecting his pre-eminence, his dauntless courage and 
transcendent genius for affairs. 

Philip is said to have been exceedingly vain of his 
person, as all great men are apt to be, and with the en- 
richment of his country he, more and more, allowed him- 
self the indulgences of kingly wealth and power. Royal 
pages, the sons of princes and nobles, kept watch about 
his bed, waited upon him at table, held his stirrup when 
he mounted his horse, and performed all the offices of 
personal attention usual in the case of a great and abso- 
lute monarch. To further emphasize his kingly dignity, 
he adorned his person with princely garments and jew- 
els, bedecking his arms and ankles and throat with wide 
bands of gold, encrusted with costly gems. 

In the affairs of government, Philip ever sought to 
attain his ends by politic means. But suppression, mis- 
representation, bribery, cunning, guile, all were alike to 
him if thereby he could accomplish his purpose. He had 
recourse to arms only when other means failed, for, 
strange as it may appear to those familiar with his life, 
he was neither blood-thirsty nor fond of strife. War 
was a means to an end when peaceful measures failed. 
Secretive, subtle, politic in his intercourse with men, 
knowing no forbearance for those who were weak. 


239 


Philip, King of Macedon 

sagacious, merciless in claiming what he craved, great in 
comprehension and bold and skillful in execution, Philip 
lost no opportunity, however slight, to build up his power. 
Yet, where his interests were not concerned, no private 
citizen was more amiable or peaceably inclined than he. He 
was not vindictive or cruel, and if he was violent, it was 
not because he loved violence for itself. If he destroyed 
cities, ravaged populous districts with sword and fire, 
put his enemies to death or sold them into slavery, he 
did it in the accomplishment of a great and predetermined 
purpose. That purpose was the ascendancy of the kingly 
power of Macedonia. He aimed to secure, at last, unity 
and peace among the warring and irreconcilable factions 
that had disturbed Greece for a thousand years. He shed 
blood no farther than need be in the accomplishment of 
this purpose, and had he lived, the unity of Greece would 
have well repaid the sacrifice ; but dying before his time, 
it seemed a cruel waste. 

Gross in his appetite, it was his nature to enjoy the 
table and the association of boon companions. At such 
times, giving himself up to the unstinted use of wine, his 
drunken debaucheries exceeded those of all other men, 
as his mind excelled all others, save Alexander's, in its 
alertness and strength. These excesses, however they 
may appear, were in the nature of relaxation to Philip, 
from the bloody strain of battle and the harassments of 
mind attendant upon the fulfillment of his mighty aims. 
Neither his love of wine, nor his liaisons, which were 
shameless and without number, ever led him to forget the 
objects of his kingly life or the aggrandizement of his 
country. In this all men are agreed. 


240 


Iskander 


It is said of Philip that when his anger was fully 
aroused every one stood appalled at its strength and 
ferocity. Then the thousand nameless acts of infidelity 
and shameless treachery that characterized his life, 
stamped their hideous impress on his furrowed brow, so 
that all might read the baleful story. At such times, his 
face, inflamed from wine, and wounds received in battle, 
became a dark purple, the scars with which it was seamed, 
giving him a savage appearance terrible to behold. In 
battle his crisp, curly hair was bathed with moisture and 
hung limp and disheveled about his massive head. At 
such times his beetling brows, contracting, overshadowed 
his gleaming eyes, giving his leonine face the appearance 
of a wild and ferocious animal. His savage passions 
when thus aroused in battle, gaining complete mastery, 
his brain succumbed to the wild frenzy and turmoil of 
the hour, so that he was like one demented. In this how 
different from Alexander, whose mind seemed to clear in 
the strife of battle, as if — and as has been thought — that 
were his natural element. Such was Philip of Macedonia, 
the greatest man the world had known up to his time, 
just as Alexander was greater than all who had pre- 
ceded him. 

Having overcome all his enemies, Philip now returned 
to Pella, with the cherished ambition of his stormy life 
fully gratified. Pleased with the world and himself, all 
that was amiable in the man showed itself in the hospi- 
table countenance of the King. In this mood, and having 
bathed and refreshed himself, he summoned his austere 
and trusted civil governor, Antipater, to his presence; 
the latter responding with the alacrity of the trained cour- 


241 


Philip, King of Macedon 

tier, the King lost not a moment in questioning him 
about the things that were uppermost in his mind. 

‘‘Come, good Antipater,” he cried as the royal pages 
busied themselves with his toilet, “you who hate wine 
and possess every virtue denied your King, what present 
scandal stirs the gossips of the court? Who among the 
gallants has been drunk oftenest? Who has strayed 
farthest from the path of virtue? Who has added to the 
number of his mistresses? Whose ox has been gored? 
I come unheralded, as you see, and purposely, that I may 
the sooner acquaint myself with the doings of the court. 
How do our Persian friends pass the hours? Not dis- 
contentedly, I hope?” the King concluded, as if after all 
that were the thing that interested him most. 

“With such cheerful countenances, oh King, as the 
damned may wear who haunt the precincts of the lower 
world,” Antipater answered grimly. 

“How like they the accommodations and the fare of 
Pella?” the King went on, waving the pages away. 

“Poorly, oh King, I must believe, if their appetites are 
an index of their stomachs.” 

“It will be better with longer stay. Their delicate 
palates are not accustomed to our strong food. Mean- 
while we will treat them with such pretense of favor as 
we can. But we must enlarge our quarters, good Anti- 
pater,” the King exclaimed, looking about him. “Other 
delegations seek our growing power from every quarter, 
and the store-houses of the world are being ransacked 
to find acceptable presents for the Imperator and Master 
of Greece. But of these Persian Grandees,” the King 
went on, “is Alexander much in their company?” 


242 


Iskander 


“Not more than courtesy requires, oh King, if I ex- 
cept the Bactrian Princess, Oxyartes’ daughter/’ 

“What of that?” the King asked, curiously. 

“Much, oh King, for he is but the semblance of his 
former self when not in her presence. Losing all energy, 
he wanders listlessly about the fortress till chance or con- 
trivance throws him in her way.” 

“Has it gone so far, my gossip? He, who unlike his 
father, would never notice women. His warmth stirs my 
heart, good Antipater; I would he were more given to 
such amorous adventures. But about another matter, 
good Antipater,” the King went on, hesitating, “have 
Attains and his niece Cleopatra returned to Pella ?” 

“Yes, oh King, and now occupy their palace in the 
city, with full retinue of followers and slaves.” 

“Is she expectant of the new honor and in good 
spirits?” the King asked, stopping to hear the other’s 
answer. 

“Yes, oh King, and withal, of such surprising beauty 
that the people crane their necks and stop to gaze upon 
her in admiration as she passes.” 

“Well they may, good Antipater, but is the proposed 
marriage much discussed, think you, or is my purpose 
only surmised?” 

“It was not at first believed, oh King. Now little 
else is talked, but not above a whisper, lest it turn out to 
be untrue.” 

“How do they receive it — kindly?” the King asked, 
eyeing the other. 

“Every one commends the grace and surprising beauty 
of the bride, oh King.” 


Philip, King of Macedon 243 

‘What says Alexander ? Is he complaisant or defiant ?” 
Philip inquired with some anxiety. 

“Of all those about the court, the Prince seems not to 
be informed, oh King. lie, like the deceived husband, 
remains ignorant while the world gossips behind his 
back. But the Prince, as I have said, has eyes and ears 
only for the fair Roxana, and so is blind and deaf to all 
else.’' 

“ ’Tis strange that so great a thing should have been 
kept back from him,” the King answered, as if doubting 
its truth. 

“The Prince has little curiosity, as you know, oh King, 
and less courtesy for the common gossips of the court. 
Besides, who would dare to speak to him about a thing 
that touches him so closely? It were likely to cost a 
man his life, so great is his pride and his respect for his 
mother. If some rumor of the marriage has come to 
his ears it has been only vaguely, and he has given it no 
heed. Such stories have been common in Macedonia 
these late years, oh King, and the wise give them little 
thought,” Antipater answered with a sidelong glance at 
his master. 

“Poor Prince, he will not take it kindly for he loves 
his mother as in his childhood,” the King went on refl*ect- 
ively. “Better he should know nothing till the thing 
is done and opposition of no avail. But about my wives, 
I scarce know the number, Antipater; do they take it 
unkindly ?” 

“One wife more or less, should not be a cause of 
worry where there are so many, oh King,” Antipater 
answered, evading the King’s question. 


244 


Iskander 


‘‘Plurality of wives has its vexations, Antipater,’’ the 
King went on meditatively, “but the annoyances must 
be set off against the advantages.” 

“So the Kings of Macedonia have ever reasoned,” 
Antipater answered soberly, remembering the seas of 
blood and countless ills his country had suffered from this 
cause. 

“Thus the King may have many children to marry to 
those not friendly to the throne, and so make adherents 
where, otherwise, there would be enemies. That is clearly 
an advantage,” the King answered, as if it were a sub- 
ject of calculation. 

“Yes, if the ties prove not irksome and the enmity 
become the greater,” Antipater answered, as if conveying 
a warning. 

“I have no time to weigh such chances, good friend. 
Nor would it avail me. We must trust those about us, 
nor can we put off the hour of our undoing though we 
hedge ourselves about by fire. But if the lesser wives 
look upon my making Cleopatra Queen with little inter- 
est, it must be different with the tigress Olympias,” 
Philip queried, with some concern. 

“I know not, oh King; but she having been Queen all 
these years and being mother to the heir, has more at 
stake than the others,” Antipater answered, as if foresee- 
ing all the evils this ill-considered marriage would bring 
in its train. 

“Is she much about and of cheerful countenance, or 
does she mope in the house?” the King asked, with sar- 
donic humor. 


245 


Philip, King of Macedon 

^‘She goes not abroad at all, oh King, or only with her 
Molossian guards and attendants.” 

“Go to her, good Antipater, and advise her of my re- 
turn and that I will follow you to pay my devoirs in per- 
son,” the King exclaimed with a grimace. “Afterwards, 
convey my greeting to the Persian Ambassadors and say 
1 will receive them informally within the hour. Such 
haste will indicate a pleasurable eagerness to do the 
great King honor and so our real intent may be the 
better concealed,” the King went on, returning to his 
toilet. 

“They feel great uncertainty respecting your intentions, 
oh King, and so have awaited your return with impa- 
tience and ill-concealed apprehension.” 

“ ’Tis but natural, and the movement of our troops to- 
ward the Hellespont heightens their alarm, but it is only 
to afford needed protection to our Thracian possessions. 
Could anything be plainer ? But that we may evince our 
great respect for the Persian monarch, announce that his 
ambassadors are to be honored with a sumptuous banquet. 
Give the matter in charge to Amyntas, who craves ern- 
ployment about the palace. A banquet will be much to 
the taste of the luxurious Persians, who are great eaters. 
Antipater, and far exceed us in their love of wine, strange 
as it may appear. Because of this vice, the only manly 
one they have, I am inclined to hold them in some respect. 
So let the event be not delayed, for I need some diver- 
sion and our strong drink will purge my stomach of the 
weak stuff the Grecians have filled it with of late. There 1 
Go to the Queen and do as I bade you, and I will follow 
without loss of time.” 


246 


Iskander 


Antipater doing as he was directed, had scarce left 
the room ere the King followed at his heels. Reaching 
the apartment of the Queen, the loud and angry voice of 
Olympias caused Philip to hesitate whether to go for- 
ward or remain where he was. 

“Does the King bring the painted strumpet Cleopatra 
to the palace in his unannounced return?” the Queen 
cried, “or does he postpone that pleasant duty till another 
day?” 

“He comes alone, gracious Queen, or only with a 
small retinue,” Antipater answered in a conciliatory voice. 

“Like the jackal, he hastens to the spot where the rot- 
ting carcass lies exposed. Already gorged with lust, 
the monster hurries his return, hearing of the presence 
of his mistress !” she cried in a shrill voice. 

“The King, oh Queen, sends me to announce his com- 
ing without delay, to greet your august majesty in per- 
son,” Antipater answered, obsequiously, as if the other 
had not spoken, or he had not heard. 

“Go back, oh supple slave, and say the Queen will 
never accord him audience until he abandons his purpose 
to make Cleopatra his adulterous Queen. Go! Your 
presence is scarcely less odious than the King you serve 
with such base subserviency,” she cried, turning angrily 
away. 

Making humble obeisance. Antipater took his departure, 
nor seemed to see the King who waited without, with 
stern and threatening countenance. Thus Philip stood, 
until the look of hate and half of fear that overspread 
his swarthy face, gave place to one of more complaisant 
humor. Then entering unannounced, he cried as if in 
joy: 


247 


Philip, King of Macedon 

‘‘Hail, gentle Queen! You give but a tardy welcome 
to your King after his long and enforced absence. The 
court, too, so it would appear, takes little interest in his 
movements, if one may judge from the scant attention 
paid his coming,” the King concluded, advancing, as if 
to embrace her. Backing away, her face aflame with 
passion, she cried : 

“The minions who pander to your lust would not have 
failed to display their truculence had they known of your 
coming. You are but too well served, oh King, and have 
little cause to complain of the pliant creatures who throng 
about your person, hungry to do your base offlces.” 

“Greet me not thus rudely, Olympias,” the King an- 
swered, with show of amiability. “Would you have me 
surrounded by other than friendly followers! My life 
were not worth an obohs purchase in such case.” 

“That were enough to pay if virtue fixed the price, oh 
King. I would have you served by men not panderers; 
by loyal subjects, not the pliant creatures who lie awake 
to entrap you with seductive wiles. Throw them off, 
Philip, and lead the kingly life that becomes your genius 
and exalted rank,” she answered, reproachfully. 

“I am what I am, oh Queen, and cannot change if I 
would. Nor is there cause,” Philip answered impatiently. 

“Dare you excuse your vices ! You, whose every hour 
of relaxation is filled with drunken revels and lustful 
indulgence,” she answered bitterly. 

“If my morals are lax, oh Queen, ’tis whispered that 
you are not blameless in that respect,” he answered 
menacingly. 

“If I have transgressed, ’tis you who taught me the 


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way: ’twas you who beat down the noble restraint that 
held me back. But 'tis not true that I have wronged you 
in aught. I was a weak fool, and wholly a savage to 
have believed, when we were wedded, that a King with 
four wives could be true to his Queen!” she answered 
with scorn. 

“Abstinence is the merit and office of women. Men 
know not what it is. You should have remained chaste, 
Olympias, nor found excuse, despite what you say, in 
my shortcomings. But you have far outdone me in 
gross excesses. The bacchanalian orgies in which you 
take part in the mountain solitudes, are but a cover to 
your liaisons with Gods and men. I, myself, not six 
months past, found a serpent half hidden in your gar- 
ments as you lay asleep; proving, oh Queen, if proof 
were needed, of your commerce with the Gods. Is it 
any wonder then that 3^ou call your son ‘The God-like 
Alexander,’ ” Philip cried in rage, for of the communion 
of mortals with the Gods, he fully believed, as did his 
superstitious countrymen. 

“Seeing near me a tame and harmless serpent, your 
besotted mind, overwrought with wine and wanton in- 
dulgence, conjures up and holds fast this base suspicion. 
Know, oh King, that I sought in the Orphic ecstasy and 
Thracian orgies, some sorcerer’s way, some magic spell 
to win you back to me. Nay, you believe not what you 
say, but belie me only to excuse your acts of infidelity 
and shame,” she answered, burying her face in her hands. 

“I speak only the truth. Others wiser than I in such 
matters know what I aver to be true,” the King answered 
soberly. For he was, in the religious phantasies of the 


249 


Philip, King of Macedon 

age, not less credulous than the most ignorant and bar- 
barous of men. “However, be it as it may, henceforth 
our paths lie apart. I claim not to be different from what 
I am. The half-tamed savage, however chaste she may 
be, makes but a sorry mate for the conqueror of Greece 
and master of the world, be his morals good or bad. At 
the eleventh hour, and all too late, I am determined to 
put you away and so end the turmoil of our growing 
court,’ ^ he answered with brutal candor. 

“Such words, oh King, ill become a Prince born of a 
line of polygamous bastards. The Moldfesian monarchs 
from whom I come, trace their descent from the God- 
like Achilles and outrank the petty traffickers of Argos 
in glory, as the sun does the moon,” she answered scorn- 
fully. 

“Yet,* though nine hundred years have passed, your 
people are no whit greater, no whit less savage than their 
ancestor, nor ever will be,” Philip answered wearily. 

“If I am outspoken, it is not that I am less civilized 
than you, but that you hide your savage nature under 
a varnish of polite speech. Nor too well, poor King, for 
but now, when angered, it gave way to the jargon of 
your barbarous ancestors as the pig returns to the mire. 
So, too, it is of Alexander when angered, albeit he was 
the pupil of Aristotle. Nay, you are wholly a savage 
like your people who wear a cord about their bodies if, 
perchance, they have not yet killed an enemy. So true 
is this that if one but pinch your neck, the bristles of the 
wild boar would straightway obtrude themselves,” the 
Queen answered, carried away with anger and scorn. 

“Cease, woman ! I care not if the blood of all the 


250 


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barbarians who fought before Troy run in your veins, I 
am still determined to be free. Your tigerish nature 
allows me neither happiness nor quiet.’’ 

“Can you do this brutish thing after all these years, 
Philip, and doing it cast suspicion upon your trusting 
and loyal son, the kingly Alexander?” she answered, 
striving to restrain herself. 

“Nay, he may still look to succeed me on the throne, 
if he do naught to cross my will. I carry not my purpose 
to such lengths at this time.” 

“But later you will put him away should you have a 
son by this painted wanton. Nay, deny it not. I read 
it in your wavering eyes, but ere you shall commit so 
great a crime I will kill you with my own hands if no 
one else has the spirit to free the world of so grea4: a 
monster!” she exclaimed with uplifted face, as if swear- 
ing it. 

“Nor will you wait so long if the stories of your in- 
trigues be true. I have returned to Pella in good time, 
it seems, if I would not face rebellion in my own house- 
hold,” he cried, backing away as if his life were threat- 
ened. 

“I know not with what lies the creatures who befoul 
the court have sought to poison your mind. For of in- 
trigues or conspiracy, or thought of it, there is no word 
of truth,” she answered, as if astonished at what he said. 

“Call you it not conspiracy to fill Alexander’s mind 
with thoughts of an alliance with the wily Persian at a 
time when Macedonia meditates the invasion and con- 
quest cff that perfidious country?” the King answered, 
remembering Antipater’s words and making use of them. 


251 


Philip, King of Macedon 

“It is a lie, oh King, for Alexander has no thought 
of such a thing.” 

“Not content to wean the Prince from my great enter- 
prise, this cunning Princess must needs array him openly 
against me, the King! Of this, as of the other I am 
well advised,” he cried, striding back and forth as if 
crazed. 

“This unjust suspicion, for it is nothing less, is no 
wise different from your insane distrust of me. For 
know, oh King, the Princess is of such gentleness that 
she could not be brought to cherish unkind thoughts of 
you, had any one the heart to thus disturb her sweet 
nature. She thinks you great and kingly, not the gross, 
licentious thing you are. Nor is there aught more of 
truth in what you say concerning Alexander’s thoughts 
of her, or, if it be true, it is not unworthy his kingly 
nature, nor does it meditate harm to you or your ambi- 
tious projects,” the Queen responded, as the she-bear 
might defend her young. 

“He would scarce breathe his intentions if it were 
true, but would bide his time, nor ask permission of 
any one.” 

“Therein, Philip, he is like his father, for what heed 
paid you to the clamor of your countrymen when we 
were wedded. Men born to rule choose their mates, nor . 
ask the friendly offices of others, and if Alexander loves 
the Princess he will wed her and no other. Take heed,' 
then, oh King, nor oppose him idly, for you have no 
more loyal subject than he.” 

“Thus wedded he would have no heart in the Per- 
sian war, and without him half my army were as well 


252 


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at home. For the eagle sweeping down from the moun- 
tain crag is not more certain of its trembling prey than 
Alexander when charging with lance and glistening 
sword at the head of my invincible cavalry/’ Philip cried, 
with impassioned voice. ‘‘No! I will have none of it. 
Rather will* I break with him entirely and so build anew. 
Now, oh Queen, that I have disclosed my set purpose,” 
the King went on, “choose which you will do, take up 
your residence in the castle at Edessa, where every honor 
shall be paid you, or seek a home with your brother, the 
Molossian King?” 

“Is it true, then, that your passion for Cleopatra has 
reached such height that nothing can stay you from this 
disgraceful step?” the Queen answered, as if some vestige 
of hope still found a place in her heart. 

“Yes. The marriage is as a thing accomplished and 
naught shall delay its consummation,” the King answered 
sternly, his eyes coldly meeting hers. 

“Then may the Gods whom you profess to worship 
and serve, bring you and her to a speedy and frightful 
death for transgressing their laws and the customs of 
enlightened men,” she cried, lifting her clenched hands 
to heaven. 

“Lest such a thing should happen, my gentle mate, I 
have already placed my image beside those of the Gdds, 
that I may enjoy like freedom of action,” he answered 
grimly. “While you curse you do not answer. Choose 
quickly that this interview may end,” the King cried, 
awaiting her response. 

“If your diseased mind had not lost all semblance of 
dignity and honor you would not ask so foolish a ques- 


253 


Philip, King of Macedon 

tion, base King, but would know that I could not breathe 
the air of Macedonia as a subject where I had once been 
Queen. There, go !” she went on, her hand toying with 
the dagger at her girdle, “lest I kill you and so bring 
a new sorrow to the heart of the kingly Alexander,” and 
not waiting his departure she turned and strode from 
the room. 

While Philip, thus left alone, stood still, pondering on 
what had occurred, a hurried footstep caused him to 
start, as if he were already beset by hidden enemies. 
Turning hastily about the door flew open and Alexander 
rushing in threw his arms about the King. 

“Welcome back to Pella, father and King,” he cried, 
kissing Philip on both his cheeks. 

“You are glad, then, that I have come?” Philip an- 
swered, doubtingly, surprised at Alexanders affection- 
ate greeting. “I have heard that all your martial ardor 
and fierce longing for war has given place to soft repose 
and idle indulgence about the palace and so might not 
welcome my return as formerly.” 

“There is no act or word to stir the blood nor feed 
suggestion when you are absent, oh King, and so nothing 
is left us but to wait your coming with such patience as 
we can,” Alexander answered, excusing himself. 

“You were wont to find an outlet for your energies in 
the chase when duties of the state did not claim you, oh 
Prince. Now, our Molossian dogs grow fat in their 
kennels for want of work, and you so soft of texture 
as to be scarce able to lift a spear,” the King answered, 
eying his soft cheeks and delicate hands. 

“Nay, oh King, you do me wrong, for you being 


254 


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away, the care of our guests and the courtesy due their 
high mission has claimed my time and thoughts.” 

“Is it true, as I am told, that your high ambition to 
overrun Asia has lost its vigor in the company of these 
soft spoken courtiers? Such stories are common talk 
about the court.” 

“It may be true, oh King, that my ardor has lost a 
part of its fire in the advantages the ambassadors hold 
out to us to prolong the peace. Is it strange that it 
should be thus ?” 

“I hold it so, for it is known to you that I have pro- 
longed the negotiations until I was ready to declare war. 
Returning, I may still dally with their overtures until 
my preparations are more forward. Does that look like 
continuing the peace? No, there can be no such thing 
unless by bribery or other treacherous means, Persia 
compasses my death and yours.” 

“Nay, I cannot believe such thing possible, oh King, 
for Oxyartes is all that is honorable among men,” Alex- 
ander responded with warmth. 

“Being such a man, would the great King make him 
the means of accomplishing his murderous end? He is 
but a cloak to cover the acts of others. But do not tell 
me you have cooled in our purpose to the point of siding 
with these emissaries?” the King cried, knowing Alex- 
ander would answer truly. 

“I may not deceive you, oh King, by saying that other 
thoughts have not somewhat overshadowed those I once 
had regarding the invasion of Persia,” Alexander an- 
swered with some reluctance. 

“What think you of the matter now, if you still make 
me your confidant? In times past you have never been 


255 


Philip, King of Macedon 

backward in expressing your thoughts, and often to your 
detriment,” the King exclaimed impatiently. 

“The change, for change there is, oh King, does not 
grow out of what has been said, so much as what I saw 
as I traversed unhappy and distracted Greece. It’s ruined 
cities, abandoned fields, and lawless life cry aloud for a 
ministering hand, and no one less wise than you, oh King, 
can accomplish a task so difficult,” Alexander answered, 
his face flushing at the remembrance of what he had seen. 

“Go on! If the Persian invasion recedes, what other 
object, save that you mention, rises to take its place; for 
you have ever been more bent on the conquest of Persia 
than I ?” Philip answered, gazing with the admiration of 
other days into the glowing face of his immortal son. 

“I have thought it now the better course, oh King,” 
Alexander went on, his gaze fixed on the distant moun- 
tains, “to stay our hand a while till you have welded into 
one harmonious nation all the petty and discordant states 
of Greece. This will not be difficult nor long of accom- 
plishment for one so great and wise; for once the people 
feel the security of peace and may go unquestioned where 
they like, all their petty jealousies and vain strivings 
after immaterial and impossible things will vanish into 
thin air. Having in this way founded a great and lasting 
empire, you may pursue your purposes where you like 
with a united people at your back.” 

“What would you do once Greece were united as it 
should have been centuries ago?” the King asked, as if 
such thoughts had not been absent from his own mind. 

“It were presumptuous in me, oh King, to say what I 
would do in the presence of one who has accomplished 


256 Iskander 

so much with resources so scant/’ Alexander answered, 
excusing himself. 

^'Nay, go on. Your wisdom is not measured by years, 
nor is it like that of other men,” the King answered, his 
heart full of love for his son. 

“Then, oh King, if you command me, Greece being 
pacified, I would bring under its enlightened rule all Eu- 
rope, including Rome, which rises like a menacing spectre 
in the west. Afterwards, with the continent behind us,” 
he went on, his face upraised, “Asia would respond with 
scarce a struggle to our united arms.” 

“All that you say is possible and perhaps the better 
way, but Asia hoards the wealth of the world and should 
come first ; with its accumulated treasures the other may 
be accomplished at our ease,” the King answered as if 
no phase of the problem had escaped his alert mind. 

“Gold will not cure the ills of Greece, oh King. Nor 
is it much needed to subdue the barbarous hordes of Eu- 
rope. Besides, will not Persia, if she be wise, use her 
vast stores to confront us with all the disaffected soldiers 
of Greece, backed by her own people? Such forces we 
could by no means easily overcome if properly com- 
manded,” Alexander answered, as if to draw the other on. 

“Persia has lost its enterprise and war-like spirit, and 
her kings have become little more than hoarders of ac- 
cumulated treasures. This wealth she will not use to create 
new armies, but will place dependence on her servile 
hordes, scourging them to battle. We, conquering at 
last, as we must, will find the treasuries of the empire 
full,” Philip cried with glistening eyes, as if he already 
beheld the gold and silver. 


257 


Philip, King of Macedon 

‘‘But while you are away no progress will be made 
at home, and should mishap befall, Greece will remain 
torn by warring factions, and in the end Macedonia will 
be left a thing apart and of no more account in the world’s 
progress than when you ascended the throne, oh King,” 
Alexander answered, as if foreseeing the fate of his 
country. 

“Mishap cannot befall us. If the Ten Thousand could 
traverse Persia from the Tigris to the western confines 
without a leader, surely nothing can befall the mighty 
army of Macedonia. 

“I only tell you my thoughts, oh King, for however 
you may decide, I will follow and with loyal heart; but 
were I King I would do as I say and, having my way, 
would, I know, be less wise in its exercise than you,” 
Alexander answered, having no thought of standing out 
against his father. For in the measureless despotism 
of Macedonia, all were taught obedience to the Sovereign 
and, save in the penalty of death, as it might affect the 
army, all alike yielded as children to his absolute will. 

“You are as fit to rule as I, oh Prince, and should I 
fall Macedonia will lose nothing by the change. What 
you advise were perhaps the wiser course, but Persia, 
through her fear, is a menace to our country, as she has 
ever been to Greece. Its hoarded wealth is needed to 
fertilize the commerce of the world, and through this 
war, waged on a hated country, discordant Greece may 
be welded into a compact and united nation. So it will 
be, Alexander, but for the present the determination, 
while suspected, may not be openly avowed,” the King 
concluded, putting his arm about Alexander and leading 
him from the room. 


CHAPTER XX. 

CLEOPATRA, ATTALUS' NIECE. 

Taking leave of the King in the great court of the 
palace, Alexander stood still, watching with admiration 
the resolute stride and robust form of the great monarch, 
as he hastened with buoyant step to his apartments. 
Neither dissipation nor the hardships of the camp, nor 
wounds received in battle, it was apparent, had as yet in 
any way impaired Philip's vigor of body and mind. 
While Alexander thus watched the monarch as he dis- 
appeared unattended, within the palace, the love-lorn 
Pausanias approached with wan smile and deferential 
manner. This young nobleman, whom we left in the 
opening part of our story, half crazed with grief over the 
fickle conduct of his love, Cleopatra, had not grown more 
reconciled with time, to his disappointment. His face, 
from being full and rubicund, had become thin and sal- 
low. Dark circles surrounded his eyes, and a settled 
melancholy showed itself in all his movements. No 
longer taking interest in his duties he gave himself up 
unreservedly to gambling with Mithrines, of whom, it 
was said, he had won great sums of money. These he 
spent for jewelry and in the procurement of rich and 
costly garments with which to adorn his person. For 
the grief of this vain and weak man, as is often the case 
in life, was never so great as to outweigh his thought of 
self. Winning thus from Mithrines and being much in 


259 


Cleopatra, Attains’ Niece 

his society, the latter had, little by little, come to exercise 
complete ascendency over the mind of the wretched noble- 
man. This influence he made use of to incite Pausanias’ 
passions and inflame his hatred of the King. While thus 
ingratiating himself with the forlorn lover, Mithrines 
had not neglected to extend his influence in other direc- 
tions likely to be of use to him. Losing constantly and 
cursing with simulated wrath the wretched fortune that^ 
pursued him, he still played with all who sought such 
diversion. In this way Amyntas, through his winnings 
from Mithrines, was now abundantly supplied with gold, 
which he wasted on his stable and in vain ostentation and 
luxuriance of life. Between Mithrines and this moody 
and disloyal Prince, the closest intimacy had grown up, so 
that they were like two brothers ; but with such show of 
openness and loud expression of admiration and respect 
on Mithrines' part for the King and Alexander, that 
many thought him about to forswear his allegiance to 
Persia to return once more to the Grecian service under 
Philip. Nor did he, like so many, avoid or slight the 
Queen, but sought every opportunity to ingratiate himself 
in her favor by the extreme deference he paid her as a 
woman and as the Queen of Macedonia. 

Among others, disaffected like Amyntas, who sought 
the company of Mithrines, were three Lyncestian nobles, 
who in the course of events, as history recounts, were 
destined to end their lives so unhappily. These young 
noblemen, like Pausanias and Amyntas, won great sums 
of Mithrines and, like them, ended by becoming the mere 
creatures of his will. In this way the wily Persian at- 
tached to his person a wide and subservient following 


260 


Iskander 


among the dissolute nobles of the country. Curiously, 
his losses were always to those who had cause of com- 
plaint against Philip or Alexander, or were likely to be 
useful to him in the prosecution of his hidden projects. 
Amyntas, having now abundant means, lost no oppor- 
tunity to build up his influence among the dependents of 
the court, and seeking the society of Pausanias, he kept 
alive his animosities by fulsome flattery and open re- 
proach of the King. This, until at last, the deluded lover 
looked upon himself as so grievously misused that he 
was bound in honor to seek redress for his wrongs, even 
to the extent of putting to death those who had injured 
him. Such were the secret intrigues of the court, fos- 
tered by Mithrines and Amyntas, on Philip’s arrival at 
Pella. 

Much cast down over the King’s return and the rumor 
that he was to consummate his marriage with Cleopatra 
without delay, Pausanias approached Alexander with 
halting step and woe-begone visage. The latter, seeing 
him cried out, half in raillery: 

‘‘What new sorrow oppresses you, Pausanias? Yes- 
terday you were aglow with Cleopatra’s coming; today 
you are like a man sick with the jaundice. Does she 
still look coldly on your suit, oh friend, or have you some 
new grievance to relate?” 

“Do not treat my passion with derision, oh Prince. 
Wit steeped in sarcasm, though it come from the King, 
could scarce be patiently borne if one expected something 
else,” Pausanias replied sullenly. 

“Nay, I had no thought to wound you, for I wish you 
success in all your undertakings,” Alexander answered 
soberly. 


261 


Cleopatra, Attalus’ Niece 

“Know you not that all my hopes are blasted ? A dish 
dropped from Edessa’s cliff could not be more completely 
broken by the fall/’ Pausatiias exclaimed, with moody 
brow. 

“For shame! You are but a lame lover, Pausanias, to 
despair so quickly. Women prize themselves highly if 
they be much sought after and yield not readily under 
such circumstances. You lack courage and at the first re- 
pulse throw away your arms and fly as if the citadel were 
impregnable. Even I could do better,” Alexander an- 
swered, striving to cheer the other. 

“I would you would try, for she will no longer grant 
me access to her presence.” 

“It is but pique, Pausanias, or a trick to try your con- 
stancy. You are jealous and she tortures you, for you 
were ever her favorite, if I remember aright, and women 
do not change thus quickly.” 

“Their love cools with time and ambitious dreams, oh 
Prince. Then they welcome the snow and chill of winter 
not less joyfully than the opening buds of spring.” 

“Not so. The flower of Cleopatra’s life has scarce 
opened and has as yet lost no part of its fragrant sweet- 
ness. She knows naught, more than you or I, of the 
chill of age, and so her heart cannot have changed as you 
imagine.” 

“If that be so her vanity or the scheming of her uncle, 
who exhibits her charms as one would a horse in the 
open market, have wrought the change, for change there 
is.” 

“Attalus would pawn his wife to gain preferment with 
the King, and so having a selfish purpose, may have 


262 


Iskander 


sought to influence her against you. But if it be sO', why 
give way to despair? Men do not yield in such matters 
to the will of others/’ Alexander answered, thinking of 
Roxana. 

“Do you advise me thus, oh Prince? You! The King’s 
son !” Pausanias cried, starting back and gazing on Alex- 
ander in astonishment, not knowing that the latter was 
ignorant of the intrigue between the King and Cleopatra. 

“Yes, by all the Gods. Why not? Men’s desires in 
such things, being honorable to them, should not be 
lightly abandoned. Nay, were the King himself to com- 
mand me I would not yield were I in your place. No! 
A hundred times no!” Alexander cried, still thinking of 
Roxana. 

“Then, oh Prince, do you come to my assistance; do 
you plead my cause. Thus I may succeed ; may still hope 
to win her. Alone I shall fail, and doing so curse the 
day that I was born.” 

“How can I aid you? Men must act for themselves 
in such matters,” Alexander answered decisively. 

“Not in such a case as this, oh Prince. Attains may 
not turn you away, and Cleopatra holds you in such high 
regard that I was once jealous of her preferment lest it 
meant something deeper,” Pausanias mournfully re- 
sponded. 

“Foolishly, you see, and without cause, as in the pres- 
ent case. Indeed, so sure am I that her love has not 
cooled that I will lay a wager that it has not, if you are 
so inclined.” 

“I accept the wager, oh Prince, and if it turn out as 
you imagine I will gladly spend all I have to pay the 


263 


Cleopatra, Attains’ Niece 

debt. Lose no time then, oh friend, in seeking her, lest 
you be too late,” Pausanias pleaded. 

“If I consent to do you this favor, be not idle, but 
hasten to the King and enlist his good offices in your 
behalf,” Alexander cried, and without waiting for a re- 
sponse hastily left the palace. Emerging an hour later 
from the city gate of the fortress, he was attended by a 
troop of horse and a score of pages, all mounted like him- 
self on steeds richly caparisoned. This as if he wished 
to clothe his mission with every formality of kingly 
dignity and grace likely to add to its success. A purple 
cloak lined with satin enveloped the Prince’s shoulders, 
and from the kausia that covered his head, and which 
only the King or he might wear, waving feathers grace- 
fully drooped. Beneath his cloak a silken coat covered 
his body, his waist being girt about by a rich belt from 
which a jeweled sword hung suspended. White doe- 
skin breeches, fitting close, covered his limbs, and to com- 
plete his costume, soft boots of deer-skin, with dangling 
tassels, encased his feet and lower extremities. The 
bridles of the highly spirited horses which the cavalcade 
bestrode, like the woolen blankets that served for seats, 
were of creamy white, while from the head-stalls of the 
prancing steeds, red plumes nodded in the morning air. 
Riding close about the Prince, the crimson cloaks of the 
pages and the trailing feathers that adorned their hats, 
gave to the cavalcade a kingly air well befitting the love 
of splendor that characterized Alexander throughout his 
life. 

Slowly pursuing his way, the citizens and soldiers 
crowding the street filled the air with the cry, “The 


264 


Iskander 


Prince ! The Prince !’’ watching him with love and friend- 
ly comment long after he had passed. 

Reaching the stately dwelling of Attains the gay cav- 
alcade entered the court that hemmed it in, the Prince 
bowing and smiling in response to the salutations of the 
throng gathered about the wide enclosure. Dismount- 
ing and leaving his horse in charge of the waiting grooms, 
he entered the palace unattended. 

Attains, the uncle of Cleopatra, whose place of resi- 
dence Alexander now visited, was one of the richest and 
most powerful noblemen of Macedonia. A high officer 
in the army, the King made him his companion and in- 
timate. For he was like Philip in his appetites ; or, if not 
like him, made it sO' appear, joining with the King in all 
his revels and applauding his vices more than his noble 
qualities. Indeed, it was through Philip’s weaknesses, as 
in the case of most men, that this great noble attached 
himself to the King’s person. Attains’ wealth and ever 
growing influence made him so great a factor in the 
affairs of his country that it was feared by many he 
would sooner or later aspire to the throne. Now, all the 
boundless resources of this resolute and ambitious noble 
were directed to the successful consummation of the great 
intrigue he had in hand, the marriage of his niece to the 
King. For it was little else than an intrigue, in the light 
of Cleopatra’s youth and the age of Philip and his 
numerous wives and concubines. However, Cleopatra 
made no objection to the union because of this, but sec- 
onded the efforts of her uncle by every device that could 
excite the satiated passions of the blase and dissolute 
King. Indeed, the concord between uncle and niece 


265 


Cleopatra, Attalus’ Niece 

seemed to bear out, what many thought, and others gave 
utterance to, that the relations between the two were of 
a more delicate nature than their kinship warranted. To 
further the marriage, Attalus gave out that at his death 
Cleopatra would inherit all his wealth. But this was a 
gratuitous gift, for the beautiful and accomplished woman 
held the King’s mind and passions in such thralldom that 
he was ready to sacrifice the peace of his family and the 
good of his kingdom to consummate his marriage with 
the entrancing creature. 

Cleopatra was, at this time, twenty years of age and 
possessed, withal, of a full and voluptuous beauty that 
seemed rather to belong to the south than the cold, in- 
hospitable climate of Macedonia. Apprised of Alex- 
ander’s visit, she waited to receive him, her resplendent 
charms aided by every art that could enhance their worth. 
As she reclined in graceful abandon on a silken divan, 
beneath an overhanging canopy embossed with gold, she 
had the impatient air of a Queen awaiting the advent of 
a favored suitor. Her graceful head was crowned with 
a pointed diadem of gold about which diminishing circles 
of pearls were wound in profuse ornamentation. Her 
Grecian robe of purple, transparent in texture and heavily 
embroidered with silver and gold spangles, was cut low 
so as to fully display her swan-like neck and voluptuous 
bosom. In all save this, her garments were rather Ori- 
ental than Grecian. Indeed, except for her blue eyes 
and pink complexion one would have said she belonged 
rather to Susa than to Greece. About her slender waist 
a broad girdle of beaten gold, inlaid with rare jewels, 
served to confine her dress which fell in graceful folds 


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about her tall and willowy figure. From her girdle woven 
panels of gold and silver studded with jewels reached 
to her feet. Strings of pearls fastened with turquoise and 
richly studded with rubies formed a resplendent collar 
about her beautiful neck. Her abundant hair, which was 
of a dark golden color, was adorned with clusters and 
festoons of pearls, held in place by golden clasps. About 
her wrists and beautiful arms, and encasing her ankles, — 
which showed above her satin slippers, — bracelets and 
bands of gold, richly studded with jewels, were clasped. 
In complement to these, and that nothing should be want- 
ing to enhance her every charm, the fingers of her white 
and shapely hands were covered with jeweled rings of 
rare design and richness. To complete her costume and 
give piquancy and charm to her beautiful hands and arms, 
she carried a turquoise fan adorned with sapphires and 
shaped after the form of a lotus leaf. 

As Alexander entered the stately saloon in which Cleo- 
patra reclined, the graceful beauty, rising to her feet, 
hurried forward, and meeting him in the middle of the 
room, knelt in gracious homage and kissed his hand. 

“Do you come thus early and in such state, chivalrous 
Prince, to welcome my return to Pella?” she asked in 
charming confusion, as he raised her to her feet. “I 
have been so long away I feared you had forgotten me 
or your friendship had grown cold,” she concluded, her 
face lighting up with undisguised pleasure, as he led her 
to the divan she had just left, and seated himself by her 
side. 

“I have not so many friends of my youth, sweet Prin- 
cess, that one can be away without my sorrowing, or re- 


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Cleopatra, Attalus’ Niece 

turn without my hastening to welcome her home/’ he 
answered, surveying the beautiful creature with undis- 
guised admiration. 

“Do you find me changed, as I do you, and for the 
better if that were possible?” she replied archly, gazing 
into his attractive countenance with rapt eyes. 

“No, sweet Princess, unless you have grown more 
beautiful were such a thing possible,” he answered, with 
the frank candor of a friend. 

“For shame, oh Prince, to flatter the trusting com- 
panion of your youth. While I have been absent you, 
it is plain, have learned the courtier’s trick of saying 
pleasant things,” she answered, scanning his face. “But 
however lightly you may speak, I have ever sought to 
gain your favor. You; whom so many strive in vain to 
please.” 

“I could scarce pay an undeserved compliment, sweet 
Princess, to one who has enslaved the hearts of so many 
gallant noblemen that their sighs fill the court like a sum- 
mer gale,” Alexander replied, pleased that she should 
receive him with so much favor. 

“Those I care least to please annoy me with their im- 
portunities, while those I most esteem have remained in- 
different or coldly silent,” she answered, gazing into his 
face as if to find there some response to her frank avowal. 

“If that be true, they, not you, have been the losers. 
But where so many would win approval you can scarce 
know your own heart for bewilderment of numbers and 
the earnestness with which they plead their cause.” 

“Woman’s love cannot be confused, but stands out all 
the more clearly from comparison of numbers. You, oh 


268 


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Prince, who dream only of war and how to acquit your- 
self in battle, know not what love is or the longings of 
our hearts, having no heart yourself.’’ 

“If I have seemed not to have a heart heretofore it was 
but seeming,” he answered with a sigh, thinking of Rox- 
ana and the passion that consumed him. 

“Then we distressed mortals, who have long felt its 
burden, may now hope for some measure of sympathy. 
Come, sweet Prince,” she went on, laying her hand on 
his, “confess to me your secret, as if I were your love, 
for in nothing can I refuse to further your desires, how- 
ever much you have been led to believe the contrary,” she 
concluded, thinking of the King’s suit. 

“Nay, I come not, sweet Princess, to lay my heart bare, 
for its throbbing would find no response in the breast of 
another, but to fulfill a promise to one so desperately 
enamored and hopelessly, as he believes, that I forget my 
own passion in sympathy for his.” 

“It were risking less, sweet Prince, were you to lay 
bare your own love, for naught, not even the King’s 
pleasure, nay, his positive command, would avail aught 
with me against the desires of his son,” she answered, 
with passionate earnestness. 

“My errand is not of such high consequence, oh Prin- 
cess, but goes no further than to reawaken in your heart 
the love you once bore my friend, if indeed you have 
ceased to look upon him with like favor.” 

“Such pleading were idle, sweet Prince, but who is it 
that thus enlists your good offices, if indeed you really 
come as the envoy of another?” she answered, showing 
her heart as in a mirror. 


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Cleopatra, Attains’ Niece 

^‘One you have ever regarded with friendship, and 
’twas thought with a passion far deeper,” he answered, 
hesitating whether it were better to advance or recede. 

“Then you are serious in what you say, oh Prince. 
I had thought it mere pleasantry,” she answered, her 
brow darkening with vexation. 

“He thinks it most serious, and I as well, sweet Prin- 
cess, else I would not come to plead his cause. Indeed, 
he will kill himself or do some other desperate thing if 
you deny him, so distraught is he with the melancholy 
that consumes him.” 

“I care not if he do, nor how quickly. But who is this 
love-sick fool that enlists so great a personage to plead 
his cause?” she answered impatiently. 

“No other than the noble Pausanias, Cleopatra. He 
believes you once loved him and may again look upon 
him with favor, if not restrained by your august uncle. 
Nay, do not take it unkindly,” the Prince went on, ob- 
serving her clouded face. “Try to think of him with 
some favor, for he is so consumed by his mad passion 
that he is but a shadow of his former self.” 

“Do you come, sweet Prince, to plead the cause of that 
weakling, foregoing your own love in his vain longings ? 
You are more generous than most men, but unavailingly, 
as you would see, if you knew aught of the hearts of 
women,” she exclaimed, striving to read his thoughts in 
his open face. 

“I have erred, and foolishly, sweet Princess, in believ- 
ing you might still look upon Pausanias with favor. 
Now nothing is left me but to crave your pardon and 


270 


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take my leave/’ Alexander answered, unable, simple 
Prince, to understand the passion she evinced. 

“I never regarded his love except as a pleasantry, and 
if I led him on ’twas as I would bend a horse to my will, 
other diversion being denied me. There! do not speak 
of him again. If I have done wrong, upbraid me. Call 
me what you will, Alexander, for your reproaches are 
far sweeter to my ears than the pleadings of another,” 
she answered, her voice tremulous with passion. 

“No, I will not weary you further and am justly re- 
proved, sweet Princess, for meddling in things about 
which I know so little,” he answered, rising to his feet 
with flushed face. 

“What I deny him with scorn I might lay down my 
life to grant another if he but spoke the word,” she an- 
swered, pulling him down beside her. “It were more 
kingly for the Prince of Macedonia to make known his 
own passion than to plead the cause of another. Nay, 
you shall not go till you have divulged the love that con- 
sumes you. You were ever thus modest, leaving unsaid 
what other and less noble men make haste to avow,” she 
concluded, her passion overpowering her reason. 

“If youth and thoughts of other things have kept my 
heart still till now it beats at last with greater passion, 
because of the long denial,” he replied, lost to her words 
in thoughts of Roxana. 

“Feeling at last its fierce throbbings, will you lose for- 
ever what you most desire, by longer evasion?” she an- 
swered softly, caressing his hand. 

“I dare not now divulge my love, sweet Princess, for 
I may not yet brave the King, who will by no means look 


271 


Cleopatra, Attains’ Niece 

with favor on my suit at this time,” he responded, con- 
juring up the obstacles Philip would throw in the way of 
his union with Roxana. 

“Are you the conqueror of Cheronea, to permit the 
King, however august, to step between you and your 
lieart’s desire at such a moment? Fie, Alexander, I 
thought you great only to find you weaker than Pau- 
sanias,” she cried, scornfully, striving to spur him on to 
avow his passion. 

“I may not now stand out against the King’s will, 
sweet friend, but in the end and in my own time will have 
my way,” Alexander cried, the vision of Roxana growing 
more entrancing with every obstacle that intervened. 

“And waiting long, poor Prince, gain at last what an- 
other leaves. Nay, you shall not be put off, for I love 
you, Alexander, and were he who opposes a thousand 
times the King it would not matter. Do not turn away, 
sweet Prince, for, responding to my determined will, 
Philip must yield. Speak but the word, my love, and 
his opposition will quickly give place to kind indulgence,” 
she concluded, throwing her arm about the Prince’s neck 
and burying her face in his bosom. 

Astonished and confounded, Alexander, overwhelmed 
with regret and shame, was for a long time speechless. 
At last, regaining his voice, he cried : 

“Do not weep nor reproach yourself, sweet Princess, — 
but kill me, for I deserve no less fate. See ! Here is my 
uncovered breast and here your poniard. No other thing 
becomes my honor, for what you ask, however idly, is 
now impossible, my heart being pledged to another, as I 


272 


Iskander 


have told you/’ he concluded, humiliated and stricken at 
the unhappy plight of his fair companion. 

Hearing him through she pushed him from her, pale 
and distraught, striving to uphold herself and hide the 
shame that burned her cheeks. At last, lifting her head, 
there came into her eyes a look of such despair and deadly 
hatred, that he sought again to soothe her with some 
word of entreaty and self-abasement. 

“Was it for this, brave Prince,” she cried, disregard- 
ing what he said, “that you led me on so cunningly, pre- 
tending a love you dared not avow? If so, you have 
achieved your end and I am undone, and my shame re- 
vealed to the scorn of all the world,” she went on, scarce 
able to speak. 

“Not knowingly did I mislead you, gracious Princess, 
but spoke in all honesty of the love that burns in my 
heart. Coming to plead the cause of Pausanias I knew 
not, nor dreamed, that you thought more of me than an- 
other,” he answered, little knowing what he said, so 
great was the regret and shame that consumed him. 

“It matters little what you thought,” she cried, her 
face white with rage; “my shame is the more apparent 
because of it. But my revenge shall be so great that my 
folly will be forgotten in its contemplation; for, though 
you be the Prince, neither your rank nor the obscurity of 
your Persian mistress shall avail to stay my hand. There, 
go! As your wife I would have saved your mother’s 
honor and upheld your hopes of being King. Now I 
will live but to blast the one and destroy the other.” 

“I cannot excuse myself nor forego your hate, nor 
wonder at its fury, though the cause of it shall remain 


273 


Cleopatra, Attalus’ Niece 

forever a secret, unthought of by man or woman. But 
let your vengeance pursue me, whom you alone have 
cause to hate, nor waste itself on those who have given 
you no cause of offense,'' Alexander cried, his anger ris- 
ing at the other's tigerish fury. 

‘‘No! no! no! By all the Gods!" she cried. “Except 
for this adventuress you would not have thus rejected 
me, to my undoing; and so my deadly hate shall pursue 
both you and her so long as either of you lives to shame 
my sight." 

“Do to me what you will, but the Persian Princess is 
the nation's guest, and the person of a suppliant is not 
more sacred. Do not transgress the laws of hospitality 
lest you die a shameful death and the land be accursed 
by the Gods," Alexander cried, and turning about he 
made his way to the open court where his attendants 
awaited his coming. Nor would he have seen the King, 
who entered the enclosure as he mounted his horse, had 
not Demetrius plucked him by the sleeve, crying out as 
he did so: 

“The King!" 

Saluting him, Alexander waited, but Philip, staring at 
him blankly, uttered not a word, save to exclaim, as he 
entered the palace: 

“You do well, oh Prince, to welcome the Princess 
Cleopatra thus early and with such show of royal pomp." 

Returning to the fortress Alexander found Pausanias 
impatiently awaiting him in the outer court. The latter, 
observing the Prince's stern countenance and bowed head, 
drew his sword and would have fallen upon it had not 
the Prince, seeing the motion, put it aside. 


274 


Iskander 


‘^Return your sword to its place, Pausanias. Men do 
not kill themselves save to avert disgrace or for some 
unmerited sorrow,’^ Alexander cried, as he stayed the 
other’s hand. 

“Speak no ill word of her, oh Prince, lest forgetting 
your sovereign rank, I bury my sword in your heart in- 
stead of my own,” Pausanias answered, in a despairing 
voice. 

“Nay, I said nothing in disparagement of the Princess. 
Go your way and live, man, for you have no just cause 
to kill yourself,” Alexander exclaimed impatiently. 

“Men may not live, oh Prince, without food to feed 
the heart and some ray of sunshine to light the way, and 
I have neither.” 

“Wounds like yours do not kill, nor remain long 
unhealed. Time and occupation will cure the sore; or, 
that failing, a spear thrust or kindly blade in the fore- 
front of battle will give you release and your memory 
honor. Nor need you wait long, for the King’s service 
offers such chances every day,” Alexander answered con- 
temptuously. 

“To Hades with the King and all who uphold the 
monster,” Pausanias cried in rage, as he turned and fled 
from the fortress. 

Deeply troubled and unable to comprehend much that 
he had heard and seen, Alexander entered the palace, to 
find a balm if he might, for his sore and mortified heart, 
in Roxana’s sweet companionship. 

“Whither in such haste, Iskander?” a voice called to 
him from an alcove, hidden by trailing vines, as he hun 
ried forwaA 


275 


Cleopatra, Attalus’ Niece 

*‘That I may be the sooner in your company, sweet 
child, for all the world save you are crazy, or bent upon 
some base and ignoble purpose,'’ he answered, entering 
the recess and seating himself by her side. 

‘‘What besets you that your brow should be thus 
clouded and your eyes so deeply troubled, Iskander?” 
she responded, lifting his hand to her lips. 

“Naught, my love, that time and your sweet com- 
panionship will not heal,” he answered, kissing her on 
the cheek. 

“Where have you been, Iskander? I thought surely 
to see you when the King received the embassy, scarce 
a half hour ago. Every one was there save you, and you 
only would I have missed. You must not be away so 
long again, sweet love; for when you are not near me 
I have such sinking of the heart, such forebodings and 
fear of the future, that my eyes are dim with the tears 
I cannot repress, nor give a reason why they flow.” 

“You have no cause to fear, sweet love, nor am I ever 
willingly absent from your side. For when I am away it 
is to wish I were near you ; and being there, to wish again 
that I might never leave your side. Oh, I am filled with 
such longing for your presence when absent that I would 
gladly give up all I have before most prized, that I might 
spend every moment of my life in your sweet company,” 
he answered, clasping her in his arms and kissing her 
hair and neck in his mad passion. 

“I knew some business kept you, but oh, the happiness 
of being near you and the fear of losing you in this wild 
country, make me jealous of every moment that you are 
absent. But I will no longer give voice to my unhappy 


276 


Iskander 


fears, Iskander, lest you tire of me. Come, sweet love,’' 
she went on, striving to speak more cheerfully, “what 
business kept you from my side?” 

“The King’s coming and the welcome I owed him 
filled the morning hour. Afterwards a friendly mission 
took me into the city, and most unhappily, as it turned 
out. But tell me, sweet love, did the King receive you 
with all kindness?” 

“Yes, and in such regal state that I could scarce find 
my voice when he spoke to me. Surely more kingly man 
never sat upon a throne, Iskander. There is such dig- 
nity and graciousness, such sense of strength and power, 
in all he does and says that no one can look upon him 
unmoved. Nay, I had almost said without fear,” she 
answered, her face lighting up at the recollection. “And 
except that matters of state prevent his giving the subject 
of my father’s mission present attention, his gracious 
reception of the embassy was all that could have been de- 
sired by the most exacting.” 

“Did he single you out, sweet love, to pay you some 
particular attention?” Alexander asked with pleasurable 
anxiety. 

“Yes, and most marked, my love. For once I was 
presented he kept me by his side and, as opportunity 
offered, took occasion to say the most kind and courteous 
things of my father and his mission. So that I came 
away feeling I had achieved a triumph in being so highly 
honored by so great a King.” 

Nor did Alexander say aught to dispel the pleasant 
illusion, albeit the deep and subtle character of Philip 
prevented him attaching any importance to his kindly 


277 


Cleopatra, Attalus’ Niece 

action or favoring speech, save as it might serve some 
purpose of the state. 

‘‘I am glad that the greatness of the King, for he is 
truly great, is honored by your sweet confidence, my 
love. But come, tell me something of yourself. Do 
Ossa and the guard I have placed about your quarters tire 
or incommode you in any way? And the pages set apart 
to attend you, do they, too, fill your expectations?^’ 

‘‘Yes, and I would not have a thing different from what 
you have arranged, love. Ossa, never obtruding, has yet 
such tact and circumspection that, unseen, I have but to 
raise my voice and he responds. Or, if it is a page I 
desire, they know my wish ere I call. I would that I 
could always have Ossa, Iskander, for when he is near 
I feel such certainty and security of person that the new- 
ness and strangeness of everything loses half its terrors,” 
Roxana answered, with loving confidence. 

“He shall be near you, sweet love, and his gentle wife 
whom he has reclaimed from bondage. That is to be 
their life as I have fixed it, and as they agree, thinking 
it honorable above all other gifts I could bestow. Let 
him be as your shadow, Roxana, for it will be to him 
an office of love. Go not abroad, even so far as the 
battlements of the fortress, without his presence. If he 
be always armed it is a thing made necessary, for our 
people, not always respecting the laws of hospitality as 
the Gods command, may seek to do you harm. Because of 
this I beg of you, sweet child, do as I say and trust not 
yourself abroad unattended,” Alexander exclaimed with 
impassioned speech, thinking of Cleopatra’s threat. 

“No! Nor will I feel it irksome to be thus strangely 


278 


Iskander 


guarded, or think you over careful,” she answered, pull- 
ing his face to her and kissing him. 

^‘It is not thought strange to go thus attended, sweet 
love, since the King’s conquests have filled Macedonia 
with discontented slaves and half savage barbarians from 
the countries that lie about us. But most, I fear the in- 
trigues and jealous hatred of those about the court. 
Guard yourself from these hidden foes, for here Ossa’s 
strong arm cannot save you.” 

“You speak always of me, Iskander. But you are not 
more safe than I, although among your own people. Late- 
ly I have seen Mithrines and Amyntas much together and . 
often in secret conference, as if hatching a plot. If you ' 
in your fear set apart a guard for me, haste to take one for 
yourself, for Mithrines will by no means go back to 
Persia without making some attempt against you; and 
what more pliant tool could he seek than Amyntas, who 
hates you and aspires to the throne, though you trust 
him as if he had no cause of complaint against your 
house. Oh, Iskander, when my sweet pages recount to 
me the stories of princes and kings of Macedonia en- 
trapped and foully murdered, my heart stops its beating 
in fear for you.” 

“If I seem to trust those about me who have just cause 
of grievance, sweet love, it is with the hope of winning 
them to the state and without lessening the vigilance that 
no Prince of Macedonia can disregard with safety to his 
country or his own person,” Alexander answered confi- 
dently. 

“The danger ever comes when least expected, for such 
is the history of Macedonia. If you have lived thus far 


279 


Cleopatra, Attains’ Niece 

unmolested, it is because the people love you, and fear 
has restrained the hands of those who would be benefited 
by your death. Quit your careless security, Iskander, 
while you may,’' she pleaded, as if clearly foreseeing the 
tragedies that loomed like a thunder cloud about his 
kingly house. 

“My love for you and the fear that I may lose you, I 
know not how, has so changed my nature that I no 
longer know myself, sweet Princess. And already on 
my way here, as if affrighted, I have planned to surround 
myself with such steadfast friends that neither treason 
nor private enmity can find an opening. Now, that at- 
tended to, my whole thought is of you, and the tender 
love I bear you,” Alexander answered, putting his arm 
about her as if only thus could he guard her from the 
enmity of Cleopatra. 


CHAPTER XXL 


THE DECEIVED KING. 

Amyntas, ever on the watch, being quickly apprised of 
the great state in which Alexander had left the fortress, 
mounted a horse and followed after, to learn the object 
of his strange visit. Reaching the palace of Attains, he 
dismounted and, privileged by his kingly rank, followed 
to the great room in which the Prince had been received 
by Cleopatra. And this without being observed by the 
attendants, as the Princess had purposely sent them away, 
desiring the interview to be private. Reaching the en- 
trance Amyntas stood still, concealed behind the heavy 
curtains, undetermined whether to go forward or remain 
where he was. While thus hesitating the voices of those 
within clearly reaching his ears, he determined to remain 
and listen. Thus, securely hidden and unsuspecting the 
nature of Alexander's visit, he heard Cleopatra's pas- 
sionate avowal. Thunderstruck, he stood still, wonder- 
ing at its strangeness and pondering on the use he might 
make of it. And presently, Alexander taking his de- 
parture, he hurriedly entered the Princess' apartment, and 
throwing himself on his knees before her, caught her 
hand and kissing it with deep show of reverence, ex- 
claimed : 

“Coming unannounced to greet you, oh Queen, I heard, 
in spite of my great reluctance, the Prince's mad declara- 
tion of love and your imperious refusal of his shameful 
( 280 ) 


281 


The Deceived King 

proposal. Had he been less exalted in rank I should have 
rushed forward and cut him down, but as it was I stood 
dumfounded and helpless,” he concluded in a passion, 
as if overwhelmed by his anger. 

“You heard his declaration? You!” she cried, starting 
back frightened and bewildered. 

“Most plainly, oh Queen, so that I could scarce re- 
strain myself, as I say. Hearing your words of censure 
and scorn I waited somewhat appeased. Now he has 
gone, to my shame I hasten to protest against the great 
indignity, knowing you to be pledged to the King,” he 
answered with servile humility. 

“Refusing him, if he be not base beyond our conception 
of common men, that will end his importunities,” she an- 
swered, regaining her composure in some measure. 

“Nay, it will but urge him on, oh Queen, to greater 
indignities. Such is his nature, as every one knows. Nor 
will he take refusal once he has made up his mind,” 
Amyntas answered with assured voice. 

“What can I do, noble Prince, a weak and timid 
woman? Surely I may trust myself to your honor and 
greater wisdom,” she exclaimed beseechingly, laying her 
hand on his arm. 

“If you would put a stop forever to this suit so com- 
promising to your honor, you must lose no time in en- 
listing the aid of the King. If he be*^told of Alexander’s 
striving for your love, it will instantly destroy all affec- 
tion he may have for his son. In its place deadly hatred 
will fill his heart and mind, and thus you will be free 
and, secure in power, may reign as Queen undisturbed,” 
Amyntas answered with eager confidence. 


282 


Iskander 


‘‘No! great Prince. The King would never believe 
Alexander could be so batse; so treacherous as a son and 
subject.” 

“He must believe it if you aver it to be true, oh Queen. 
Besides, did I not hear the avowal? Nay, every word 
that was said?” Amyntas concluded, eying the Princess 
with questioning glance. 

Understanding all too clearly the other’s covert mean- 
ing Cleopatra, deeply disturbed, trembled and turned pale 
But quickly recovering herself she answered with firm 
assurance : 

“Yes, ’tis true; the King will not doubt my word! No! 
Not if I condemned half the court, so great is his pas- 
sion. Occasion, moreover, may arise by which you may 
confirm it, noble Prince, if he questions you,” she an- 
swered adroitly. 

“I will, with such definiteness and persistency that he 
will thank me while he curses the Prince for his base 
treason.” 

“Be circumspect in what you say, and let it be rather 
by reflection than frank disclosure, lest an open rupture 
be untimely precipitated,” Cleopatra answered, restrain- 
ing him with voice and gesture. 

“I will be governed in everything by your greater wis- 
dom, oh Queen. Aggrieved and insulted it is for you to 
indicate the nature* and measure of Alexander’s punish- 
ment,” Amyntas humbly replied. 

“Thanks, noble Prince, I will not fail to remember and 
treasure your kindness when I am Queen. There, go, my 
good friend. I hear the trumpet announcing the King’s 
coming,” she exclaimed, offering her hand to Amyntas 
to kiss. 


283 


The Deceived King 

Taking his departure by one of the interior doors of the 
spacious chamber, the opening had scarce closed behind 
him when an attendant, throwing wide the curtains which 
hid the main entrance, cried : 

‘The King !” 

Hurrying forward, little regardful of his regal dignity, 
Philip stopped short, astonished and perplexed at what he 
saw. For Cleopatra hastened not to receive him as he 
had thought, but lay outstretched in abandonment upon 
the floor, her form trembling with suppressed emotion. 
Making no movement to rise or greet him, the King, 
after a moment’s hesitation and doubt, hastened to her 
side and lifted her up. Feeling his arms about her she 
cried with passionate energy: 

“Have you come back, oh Prince, to torture me further 
with your cruel avowal of love?” 

“Look up, Cleopatra! It is I, Philip, the King, my 
sweet Queen, who comes to embrace and greet you,” he 
cried bewildered. 

Hearing him she started up with a wild cry, tearing 
herself from his arms as if his touch poisoned her. Thus 
she stood with uplifted head and flushed face confront- 
ing him, but presently stilling her passion, she approached 
him and putting her arms fondly about his neck, cried as 
if stricken with grief and shame: 

“I am debased and polluted, gracious King, and no 
longer worthy of your love or confidence, so great is my 
humiliation and despair,” and releasing him she held 
down her head in abject shame. 

“Polluted! Debased! My Queen, what mean you by 
such speech? Scarce waiting to refresh myself I hurry 


284 


Iskander 


to your side in fond expectation, and coming find you 
thus,'’ he cried, regarding her with a look of astonish- 
ment, in which his deep passion was clearly apparent. 

‘‘Why did you delay at all, oh King? Now you come 
all too late to save me the foul shame that has been put 
upon me by your princely son.” 

“Alexander? Nay; he came to greet you as a friend, 
not to cast shame upon you,” the King answered, unable 
to comprehend her meaning. 

“So he may have told you, gracious King, and you 
being all honor and loyalty believed him, but far differ- 
ent was the purpose of his cruel errand,” she answered, 
allowing her face to rest beside his in soft embrace, as he 
bent over her. 

“What other purpose could he have had unless it was 
to chide you for the love we bear each other? But of 
that I thought he, of all the world, was ignorant,” the 
King answered with lowering brow. “Come, my Queen, 
tell me his mission here, if that it was that distresses 
you.” 

“I dare not, gracious King, lest in your anger you kill 
him,” she answered, feigning fear. 

“Kill him! What do you mean? For I know not what 
to think or say, so greatly am I disturbed and confused,” 
the King answered with fixed look and lowering brow. 

“I would leave you, too, in happy ignorance, Philip, 
lest the love you have borne the Prince be turned to hate 
and deadly murder,” she answered with hesitating voice, 
stroking his face with her soft hand. 

“Torture me no longer, sweet Princess. Tell me his 
offense, and quickly. Of its punishment I must be the 


The Deceived King 285 

judge,” the King cried, his face purple with rage and 
dismay. 

'‘Spare me the anguish of telling it, oh King, for I dare 
not speak,” she answered, clasping him about the neck 
beseechingly. . 

“Speak, I command you! Naught that concerns her I 
am so soon to wed, my Queen, can be hidden from me.” 

“If I obey it is because I can deny you nothing, Philip. 
Not though my heart be wrung with regret and anguish. 
But of the telling, oh King, naught shall be divulged lest 
I kill myself for shame,” she answered, imploring him 
with uplifted hands. 

“Go on, Cleopatra! Try not my patience longer,” the 
King exclaimed, holding her at arm’s length. 

“When the Prince came, if you command me to obey 
you, cruel King, I received him kindly, overjoyed at his 
quick coming and the friendship it evinced ; but straight- 
way losing all interest in my inquiries concerning you and 
the campaign in Greece, he said you were greatly broken 
by wine and numberless crimes against women and so 
must soon die, or living, the burdens of the state must 
rest on younger shoulders. Thus he would be king in 
name or in fact within the year. But, oh Philip, I can- 
not, I cannot tell you all he said,” she cried, burying her 
face in his bosom. 

“Go on, I command you,” he answered, putting his arm 
about her. “Not a word shall you omit.” 

“When I would have protested that you were still 
young and might look forward to thirty years of kingly 
life, he would not let me speak,” she went on with seem- 
ing reluctance. “Softly insinuating that some grievous 


286 


Iskander 


and secret ailment, of which I was ignorant, forbade to 
you a great stretch of life, he asked that I cast you off, 
Philip, and wed him instead. Enraged at his baseness, 
I bade him leave me, but growing violent at my refusal 
he threatened me with disgrace and death if I stood out 
against him. At last, when I had twice refused him with 
bitter reproaches, he caught me about the waist in a mad 
frenzy of passion, such as is peculiar to his mother, 
Olympias, and cast me down at his feet as you found me,’' 
she. concluded, wringing her hands as if forced by the 
King’s will to be thus particular. 

“By the Gods, can I have been dreaming all this while ! 
The base wretch shall answer for his treachery and dis- 
loyalty with his life,” the King cried in a choked voice. 

“Be not too hasty in judging him, Philip. He is ac- 
customed to indulgences at your hands, and this is but 
the sequence to what has gone before. Nor does he think 
it out of place, believing he will soon reign in your stead,” 
she answered, covering her face as if overcome. 

“He reign! No; by the Gods no! He deserves death 
rather, or banishment, if mercy may be accorded him. To 
be king within the year! ’Tis a plot, Cleopatra, hatched 
by his tigress mother, and a sword thrust is all that is 
necessary to leave the throne empty, as he says,” the King 
exclaimed, purple with rage. 

“Passion is not natural to you in such a thing, gracious 
King,” she answered, seemingly frightened. “Be not too 
hasty in what you say or do, lest the army that adores 
him, as if he were its child, be led astray, and so condemn 
your action and those who love you.” 

“It will not ! It dare not ! It is my creature. Unkempt 


287 


The Deceived King 

slingers and half-clad bowmen, armed with wicker shields 
and charred pikes, I made it what it is; and it will obey 
me in all things as will every one, however exalted their 
rank,” the King answered with angry vehemence. 

‘The vanity and ambition of the Prince will lead him 
to think differently, Philip, but I being by your side may 
guard your bed and so preserve you from the treason that 
threatens the throne; for I tremble at your return to 
Pella, oh King, lest some snare be already laid to bring 
about your death,” she exclaimed, clinging to him as if 
crazed with apprehension. 

“Fear not, my Queen. Our marriage, too long put off, 
shall be consummated ere the day closes. It were better 
thus than with noisy ceremony, amid the clang of trum- 
pets and gaping crowds and the chattering gossips of the 
Court. That done, all discussion will cease. Your gra- 
cious presence, once my Queen, will stay the steps of the 
wavering if any such there be. Oh Alexander !” the King 
went on with sorrowing voice, “You whom I have loved, 
to betray me in so base and cowardly a manner. Fool 
that I was to trust him, when like folly has cost so many 
kings of Macedonia their lives and thrones. But I will 
find a way to curb his over-weening ambition, and in the 
end one more worthy shall follow me on the throne,” the 
King concluded, raising his hand aloft. 

“If he be false, not all your children are tainted with 
treason, Philip. Or it may be, gracious King, that from 
our union, respondent to our fervent desire, a prince may 
be born worthy to succeed you on the throne,” she ex- 
claimed with eager fondness. 

“Antipater has been deceived not less than I,” the King 


288 


Iskander 


went on musingly, “for he told me scarce an hour ago 
that Alexander was enamored of the Persian Princess, 
having no thought but of her nor any desire save to be 
in her presence.” 

“It is but a ruse, Philip, to mislead you and those you 
trust; or if there be truth in the story he would have a 
plurality of wives, as his kingly fathers have had before 
him. But come, Philip,” she went on, encircling him 
with both her arms, “let us dismiss this most unhappy 
subject and enjoy the sweet hour while we may. I have 
lived only in its expectation since last my heart was 
stirred by your gracious presence, and now it is disturbed 
by the intrigues of those who should love and shield you. 
Come, my adored, you have told me naught of the com- 
ing banquet about which every one is already talking, — 
no, nor asked me to view it with the others,” she an- 
swered, kissing him. 

“It was this and your sweet presence that brought me 
here,” he answered, caressing her. “Amyntas, who loves 
such things, has it in charge; and that the women may 
have every freedom he has planned that they shall come 
in masks, if they will, and so view the spectacle from the 
surrounding balcony.” 

“Will those about the court come thus disguised? And 
the Persian woman?” she asked anxiously. 

“Yes, and most surprising, the gracious Roxana, to do 
greater honor to the festival, will come robed and masked 
as the Persian queen. But this in confidence, as she does 
not wish her identity disclosed,” the King went on, his 
anger forgotten. “I will not ask your disguise, sweet 
Princess, being sure that naught can long hide your lovely 


289 


The Deceived King 

form from my expectant eyes. But come, let us go seek 
the princely Attains, for know, most persecuted of prin- 
cesses, I will not leave the palace until you have become 
my queen, and so are safe from future indignities,” and 
overpowered by his passion, he kissed her on her open 
bosom, as he put his arm about her and led her away. 




CHAPTER XXIL 


THE CONSPIRACY. 

‘Why this turmoil, this rearrangement, these hurried 
decorations, exalted Prince?’' Mithrines cried, accosting 
Amyntas, who stood in the center of the great court, 
watching the slaves placing furniture and fixing plants 
and flowers about the wide enclosure. 

“It is in preparation for the banquet which the King 
gives tonight,” the other answered laconically. 

“Tonight?” Mithrines exclaimed, feigning surprise. 

“Yes.” 

“Why, he has but this moment returned.” 

“ 'Tis his way, and that he may pay greater honor to 
your embassy, he avers,” Amyntas answered with a 
shrug of his shoulders. “Others say it has another object 
and one he esteems far more important.” 

“What is the secret he conceals under this haste to 
show hospitality to the Persian envoys?” 

“To proclaim his marriage with Cleopatra. ’Tis a 
thing he may the more boldly tell being drunk, for in 
such state he will have less fear of Alexander’s anger, 
which the announcement is sure to excite.” 

“Alexander’s anger!” Mithrines answered contemptu- 
ously. “A love-sick fool, with eyes and ears only for 
Roxana, living and dreaming in a world apart. What 
manner of prince is this about whom such brave stories 

( 290 ) 


291 


The Conspiracy 

are told, Amyntas? I would my master’s enemies were 
all like him. We would quickly seat you on the throne 
and there would be an end to his fears, and I might re- 
turn to Sardis and the life of civilized men.” 

'‘You had better have stayed at home, oh friend, if 
coming here you read Alexander no better,” Amyntas 
answered dryly. 

"How else can I read him? He has no mind for af- 
fairs and lives only in his mistress’ voice or sits spell- 
bound gazing into her eyes. I thought him a man of en- 
terprise ere reaching Greece. But he has no ambition, 
no fire, and his temper is of such softness that it were 
an offense against good manners to bait him,” Mithrines 
responded with a laugh of disdain. 

"You mistake the spell he is under for the man, for he 
is nothing if not fire, Mithrines. Not hidden and smoul- 
dering as with Philip, but striking and vivid like the 
forked lightning. The King’s purposes are ever con- 
cealed, and he could not be open if he would. A fox 
playing among the young pigs is Philip’s natural self. 
But Alexander knows not what dissimulation is, and 
when aroused has neither thought nor moderation, but 
like a fierce tempest uproots and crushes all who with- 
stand him. This savage spirit comes from his barbarian 
mother and brooks no opposition save from friends, and 
then only within the limits of his princely dignity. A 
dozen Philips were less dangerous to Persian greatness,^ 
oh Lydian, than one Alexander aroused to action,” Amyn- 
tas answered, sobered at the thought of the Prince’s fierce 
nature. 

"Exaggerated greatness! A harmless Iamb masquer- 


292 


Iskander 


ading as a lion. It is with Philip we nave to deal, and 
he out of the way we may do with the other what we 
will/’ 

‘Thilip removed and Alexander left, you will have 
gained nothing. Once he is King his father’s contem- 
plated conquests will seem trifling things to what he will 
achieve,” Amyntas answered confidently. “No, they 
must die together, oh Persian, and tonight’s banquet will 
afford the opportunity we have sought. Alexander will 
not sit still and see his mother disgraced, and in the tur- 
moil that will ensue both the bear and the cub may be 
skinned,” Amyntas concluded, as if speaking of a thing 
already accomplished. 

“Philip and Alexander are more like lovers than King 
and subject. This every on*e avers and the Prince has 
such esteem for his father, and what he calls Philip’s 
greatness, that it will be no easy task to array one against 
the other.” 

“Such a slight will be put upon him tonight that were 
he of craven heart he could not be quiet under it.” 

“Who will do this and hope to live? Not even the King 
would dare brave his chivalrous son thus openly, though 
Alexander’s loyalty is said to be such that he would not 
harm him were he to lose the throne thereby,” Mithrines 
answered, seeking to excite Amyntas’ jealousy of Alex- 
ander. 

“Attains, who hopes to benefit by the quarrel, as he 
does ..by the marriage of his niece, will be the instrument, 
and while he thinks only to destroy Alexander, the King, 
too, shall fall,” Amyntas replied decisively. 

“By what cunningly devised plan do you hope to 


293 


The Conspiracy 

achieve things so fraught with advantage to you, and so 
fatal to all concerned if the conspiracy should unhappily 
miscarry ? Though I have loaded your friends with gold 
and clothed them in princely raiment, yet they will not 
risk their lives to further your ends; and should the plot 
fail, tomorrow's sun will not find one head upon the 
shoulders of those who are concerned in the dangerous 
project," Mithrines answered doubtingly, to test the oth- 
er’s resolution. 

‘*One were but a sorry conspirator, Mithrines, whose 
safety depended upon his plots succeeding, for such things 
are a lottery, as you Persians know better than other men. 
Four times you attempted Alexander’s life ere reaching 
Pella, and failing each time was yet able to avert sus- 
picion from yourself.’’ 

‘T am not sure of that, good friend. Alexander is 
such believer in the Gods and their regard for strangers 
that, though he knew I conspired, yet would he not for 
such act harm me while I remained in Macedonia," Mith- 
rines answered, as if he admired the Prince. 

“May his Gods in like manner protect him when the 
naked sword opens his throat," Amyntas answered sav- 
agely. “Go your way, good friend. It were not best we 
be seen too much together. But be not tardy at the ban- 
quet, and if by chance it end in darkness you may still 
see my weapon open a way to the throne of which I have 
been robbed." 

“The Prince is not the kind of a man to stand like a 
Theban pig till his enemy pricks him, nor will he wallow 
in wine like his father and so become an easy prey. I 
greatly fear the outcome of your project, good friend. 


294 


Iskander 


They told me ere I came that you were cautious to 
timidity, oh Prince, and so explained your absence from 
the throne. Nay, your enemies said you better became the 
peaceful avocation of the shepherd than the kingship of a 
war-like people. I thought to drill you like a half-hearted 
mercenary in the struggle to overthrow Philip ; but com- 
ing, find you more forward than discreet.’’ 

“Hush !” Amyntas angrily interposed, “till I put some 
heart in this craven wretch who would possess the peer- 
less Cleopatra, but dare not strike a blow to win her,” 
Amyntas went on, saluting Pausanias as the latter ap- 
proached. “What !” he cried, as the other sought to pass 
on unmindful of his presence, “is all hope dead, noble 
friend, that you carry yourself so gloomily amid the cheer- 
ful preparations for the marriage-feast? I thought you 
more worthy of woman’s love!” 

“Cease, Amyntas, for I am in no mood to listen to your 
raillery,” Pausanias answered, without lifting his head. 

“Call you the distress of those who offer you loving 
service, raillery? Fie! It were idle to aid such a man. 
You walk as one already dead when tonight, if you had 
the heart, you might remove the obstacle in your path 
and so win the woman you love.” 

“It were a needless labor. She no longer regards me 
with favor, and to pursue her further is to play the part 
of coward,” Pausanias answered, as if having no heart in 
the matter. 

“Well, go your way. Friendship is wasted on one so 
easily the dupe of those concerned in misleading him. 
Adieu ! You are unworthy the fair being you relinquish. 
Led garlanded, like a patient brute to the sacrificial altar. 


295 


The Conspiracy 

she will pine and die, while you live to grow old and fat 
on the recollection,” and Amyntas turned away as if too 
angry to discuss the matter further. 

“You do me wrong, oh friend, for I have heard within 
the hour that she no longer loves me and is content to 
wed the King.” 

“What subservient slave of Philip has gone out of his 
way to thus mislead you with so foul a lie?” Amyntas 
asked, facing the other as if surprised. 

“The Prince, if you would know.” 

“Alexander?” 

“Yes, Alexander. He went purposely to the palace of 
Attalus to plead my cause, but all in vain,” Pausanias an- 
swered with a doleful sigh. 

“Fie, Pausanias ! Do you believe the silly story, made 
up to further his own designs?” Amyntas asked deri- 
sively. 

“Yes, for he has every reason to favor me, being my 
friend and averse to the King’s suit.” 

“Love knows no friendship, oh Pausanias. If the sun 
but come between the enamored swain and his adored it 
is accursed. Vain, weak man! You are ever the dupe 
of those you trust, for Alexander knows nothing of the 
proposed marriage of the King, and while seeming to 
plead for you sought only to advance his own suit. Cleo- 
patra herself told me as much. Bah! I thought you a 
man of more discernment,” Amyntas exclaimed scorn- 
fully. 

“What avails Alexander’s suit when the King presses ? 
Nor can he be ignorant of his father’s intentions, Amyn- 


296 


Iskander 


tas. Such a thing were too absurd to believe/’ Pausanias 
answered, surprised at what the other said. 

^‘All the world knows it, Pausanias, save Alexander. 
Who would tell him, think you? Nay, hint at it even? 
It were an ill-requited confidence. You are doubly de- 
ceived, oh dreamer, and while you loiter, the scorn of 
men, she who reaches out to you in vain for succor will 
be carried off in the talons of the great vulture,^’ Amyntas 
responded. 

‘^Is that which you tell me true, Amyntas? Nay, 
swear it with uplifted arm before the Gods!’' Pausanias 
cried, facing the Prince with flaming eyes. 

“I swear that of all men, oh Pausanias, she loves you 
and no other,” Amyntas answered, lifting his hand. “She 
yields in this to Attains’ ambitious dreams and the impor- 
tunities of the King, a victim to the lust of those about 
her.” 

“I hold my life of no account losing her, oh friends, 
and if I have been deceived in this the King shall not 
snatch her from me to feed his brutish passions,” Pau- 
sanias cried in a frenzy. 

“Had you shown such spirit before, Philip would have 
looked elsewhere for a new mistress, and she be free to 
wed whom she pleased. Now, having proclaimed his 
purpose to make her his Queen, nothing except his death 
can save her from the unhappy fate.” 

“His death ! How may such a thing be achieved ? And 
if it fail ?” Pausanias murmured, his face paling. 

“It cannot fail, or if it should you may live to try 
again. To this I pledge you both my honor and my life,” 
Amyntas answered confidently. 


297 


The Conspiracy 

^Tailing such attempt, I would kill myself in the King’s 
presence,” Pausanias answered, despair overshadowing 
his countenance. 

“Yes, to receive his grateful thanks for taking your- 
self off so readily. Bah ! the struggle with the King will 
not end thus. You will not die the death of a craven, 
but live a brave man to free the woman who loves and 
trusts you.” 

“I swear it Amyntas ! Hear me, ye Gods !” Pausanias 
cried, at last convinced. “And as I am true to my oath, 
make me happy or destroy me utterly,” he went on in a 
frenzy, lifting his clenched hands to heaven. 

“Swear not so loudly, good friend, for here comes one 
who would scent danger to his masters in a mouse-trap,” 
Mithrines exclaimed as Clitus approached the group with 
wary eyes. 

“The King had best look to his hens when three such 
hawks hover about the roost,” Clitus muttered as he came 
up, scanning the others with suspicious glance. “Your 
face, Pausanias, has not had so high a color these six 
months past. Were you confessing to the Gods but now, 
or taking some vain and foolish oath?” 

“He was but forswearing women, good Clitus, vow- 
ing in the hardships of the camp to gain the honors he 
has so long given over to idle dreams,” Amyntas an- 
swered, smiling amiably. 

“I did not know the love-sick could be cured so easily, 
oh Prince. If one has but to swear then I will no longer 
shun the amorous hour, but mingling with the smitten 
youths claim some share in their lascivious pleasures,” 
Clitus answered lightly, by no means satisfied. 


298 


Iskander 


“Being free, oh Clitus, you had best remain so, lest, 
catching the disease, distasteful purgatives may be neces- 
sary to cure you of the distemper; or, it growing upon 
you, more wives come to claim you than your allowance 
warrants,” Amyntas answered, laughing. 

“Those who need medicine do well to take it cheer- 
fully, and if Pausanias’ complaint has yielded to such 
treatment may the Gods be praised!” Clitus answered. 

“If a case be hopeless, Clitus, and medicine fail, there 
yet remains the knife,” Pausanias exclaimed with stolid 
face. 

“What! May love, after all, be so desperate a thing 
that the surgeon must cut out the diseased part, as one 
would extract an arrow or lop off a shattered limb?” 
Clitus responded, attaching a doubtful meaning to the 
other’s words. 

“Yes, when passion so heats the blood that reason and 
decency give way to lustful indulgence, then bleeding is 
the only cure,” Pausanias replied, looking Clitus in the 
face. 

“In Pausanias’ case, happily, a perfectly harmless medi- 
cine, albeit bitter to the taste, has done the business, and 
so he may once more look abroad like other men,” Amyn- 
tas answered, putting his arm about Pausanias and lead- 
ing him away, followed by Mithrines. 

“If he be cured of his love for Cleopatra,” Clitus mut- 
tered to himself as they departed, “then did the blade of 
that murderous pirate leave no scar on my fair cheek to 
disfigure me forever. There is some mischief afoot! 
What can it mean? Pausanias’ look was not one to make 
a man sleep in his company, being at enmity with him. 


299 


The Conspiracy 

With such companions too! No, Beard of Cyclops, there 
is death in the air or I am a lousy Spartan. Amyntas’ 
show of frankness, wily man, was but a mask. But what 
is it? Comes the danger from the banquet as the warn- 
ing read ? What did the missive say T’ he went on, pull- 
ing a scrap of paper from beneath his belt and eagerly 
perusing it. ‘‘ ‘Go armed to the banquet lest your master 
lose, untimely, the thing his friends prize so highly?’ 
Eye of Cyclops I Nothing could be plainer, or if it be a 
joke, the weight of our swords will not tire us. You had 
best look to yourselves, oh trustful King, and still more 
trustful Prince, if you would keep your hearts beating in 
your breasts,” and shaking his head in deep perplexity 
Clitus hastened away. 

Dismissing his companions, Amyntas hurried toward 
his apartrhents, greatly agitated over what had taken 
place and the near consummation, as he believed, of his 
carefully laid plans. Little regarding what was occurring 
about him, he was stopped midway in his passage by a 
closely veiled chair that blocked his way. As he stood 
still, impatiently awaiting its movement, the curtain was 
partially drawn aside and a lady extending her hand beck- 
oned him to approach. Recognizing the jewels of the 
Princess Cleopatra, he hastened to her side, greatly sur- 
prised at her presence in the palace. Still keeping her 
hand without the folds of the curtain, she exclaimed, as 
he approached, in a voice scarce audible : 

“To you, noble Prince, is reserved the honor of first 
saluting your Queen, Cleopatra.” 

Astonished beyond measure at what he heard, he 


300 


Iskander 


pressed her hand to his lips in respectful homage, unable 
to speak, so great was his surprise. 

“The King, impatient of delay and over-riding every 
obstacle as is his wont,” she went on, letting Amyntas 
have some glimpse of her fair face, “the ceremony was 
performed according to his commands within half an 
hour of your departure.” 

“I give you loyal greeting and joy, oh Queen, and 
with it the fealty of a faithful subject who places his 
services and life at your command,” Amyntas answered 
at last, overcoming his surprise. 

“I expect as much, oh Prince; and now adieu, for I 
go to occupy the apartments the King has graciously as- 
signed me beside his own,” and smiling upon him she 
closed the curtains of the chair as she bade the attendant 
slaves go on. 

Long Amyntas stood, watching with unmeaning eye 
the door by which she had disappeared, unable to deter- 
mine whether this sudden marriage made for or against 
his plans. At last, seemingly satisfied that it would every 
way further his projects, he hastily entered the sumptuous 
apartments the King had that morning assigned him 
within the palace. Here, as he expected, he found the 
Lyncestian nobles. Hardy, resolute and resourceful, 
the swords of these dissolute brothers were ever at the 
command of the highest bidder. Corrupted by Mithrines’ 
gold and entrapped by Amyntas, they now stood ready to 
do what the latter required, little regarding the future, 
confident in their united strength and purpose. 

Seeing his followers impatiently awaiting him and not- 


301 


The Conspiracy 

ing their expectant countenances, Amyntas, saluting them, 
cried with joyful speech : 

“Good news, brave comrades. The throne of Philip 
topples with the added weight!” 

“What mean you by that?” Lyncestes, sometimes 
called Alexander, answered. 

“Why, what else than that the King, true to his word, 
like a foolish lover, has made Cleopatra his Queen.” 

“Already, say you?” 

“Yes, within the hour.” 

“How know you this?” 

“From Cleopatra, the Queen, herself, as she passed but 
now in a curtained chair,” Amyntas answered in joyful 
tones. 

“Is she within the palace?” 

“Yes.” 

“By the Gods 1 She waits not on stately ceremony, this 
beautiful Queen; nor on Olympias' fast fading splendor. 
But I like her the better for her spirit; if the throne be 
yours, occupy it, and quickly,” Lyncestes answered mean- 
ingly. 

“Yes, lest waiting you be forgotten,” Heromenes cried 
in response, eying Amyntas. 

“Where is she lodged? I knew not that the palace 
afforded accommodation for two Queens?” Arrhabseus, 
the other brother, asked derisively. 

“The King gives up half his quarters to her, like an 
indulgent husband.” 

“That is neighborly, and seems to look to some cur- 
tailment of the fair visitors who come and go between 
the setting and rising sun,” Lyncestes cried, laughing. 


302 


Iskander 


^‘Yes, there is to be no more dallying with the frail 
beauties of Pella. The Queen is to sleep in Philip’s bed, 
cook his food, open the door to coming guests and wait 
on them when they depart. Thus the good wives of the 
kings did in olden times, and so it is to be again,” Amyn- 
tas answered with sardonic humor. 

‘‘Now, other men’s wives and sweethearts open the 
King’s door, and all the world has been topsy-turvy be- 
cause of it,” Heromenes,who was inclined to take a jovial 
view of life, answered. “But, good friend,” he went on 
soberly, “have you nothing to tell us about tonight’s ban- 
quet, more than we already know?” 

“Naught save that you carry sharp weapons and drink 
sparingly, or not at all, lest the whole thing miscarry.” 

“I do not see that we have any worthy part to play 
save to fall on with sword and dagger when the signal 
is given. A cup, more or less, will but add zest to the 
work,” Lyncestes replied, filling a goblet with wine and 
draining it at a draught. “Has every one his part as well 
in hand?” he went on, filling the cup afresh and beckon- 
ing his brothers to do the same. 

“Yes, even the craven Pausanias, who left me but now 
to arm himself, cursing the long delay.” 

“And Alexander?” 

“Why? What of him?” Amyntas asked surprised. 

“Will he not stay away in resentment of the King’s 
treatment of his mother? ’Twere a natural thing for 
him to do.” 

“No. Philip has commanded him to be present that 
nothing may be lacking to do honor to Oxyartes’ mission. 
Because of that and Alexander having passed his word, 


303 


The Conspiracy 

there can be no doubt of his presence/’ Amyntas an- 
swered confidently. 

“The more fool he — and Attains ?” the other queried. 

“He lends himself to the plot, thinking it goes no 
further than Alexander. To aid in this he promises to 
bring the King to the feast excited with wine.” 

“An easy office, an easy office,” Heromenes answered 
dryly. “I would it had fallen to me.” 

“Afterwards, the King being wholly drunk. Attains 
will spring the trap,” Amyntas went on. 

“To be killed by Alexander on the spot for his pains, 
or suffer some worse indignity,” Heromenes answered, 
grinning. 

“Quite likely,” Amyntas answered carelessly. “Then 
the King being drunk and not knowing what he does, nor 
caring, will strike Alexander down at his feet.” 

“That will not be a thing so easy,” Lyncestes inter- 
posed incredulously. “No, no, you expect too much, 
Amyntas. The Prince, disgusted and angry, will be more 
likely to hurry away, avoiding all strife with his father.” 

“Then the King being at our mercy, we may put him 
to death at our leisure. While those lying in wait will 
kill Alexander as he traverses the narrow path that he 
must to effect his escape from the disgraceful scene.” 

“But suppose he remains?” 

“Then being unprepared, you will fall upon him and 
kill him where he stands,” Amyntas answered decisively. 

“But if we fail, oh Prince, as we are likely to do, what 
then? For Alexander, the best swordsman in the King- 
dom, is not one to yield his life easily,” Lyncestes an- 
swered soberly. 


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“It cannot fail/’ Amyntas replied, turning white at the 
other’s serious manner. “Or if it does Alexander will 
still be in the wrong, having commenced the attack on 
Attains. While we, seeking only to protect the King 
and his friends who are threatened, will escape with 
praise, and so live and prosper to try again. But adieu, 
good friends, till night, for I must hasten to Olympias to 
acquaint her with the marriage and Cleopatra’s presence 
in the King’s apartments,” Amyntas cried, taking up his 
cloak and hat. 

“ ’Tis not an agreeable errand, one would think?” 
Heromenes exclaimed dryly. 

“On the contrary, it is one I would not lose nor share 
with you for half Mithrines’ riches,” Amyntas answered 
with a fiendish leer as he hurried away. 


CHAPTER XXIII. 


EXILE OF OLYMPIAS. 

Alexander and Roxana going the same day, in the 
middle of the afternoon, to pay a visit to the Queen, the 
Molossian soldiers who guarded the door refused them 
entrance, the officer explaining that his orders were to 
admit no one; but upon his being dispatched to the 
Queen to make known their presence, they were presently 
admitted. On gaining admission they were greatly sur- 
prised and shocked at the confusion and sorrow that 
reigned within. In the midst of the disordered room, 
the Queen arrayed as if for a journey, stood dejected, a 
melancholy picture of grief and anger. About her slaves 
were hurrying hither and thither, intent on the work in 
hand and paying little or no regard to the person or dig- 
nity of their sovereign. Grouped about the distraught 
Queen in mournful attitude, their faces stained with tears, 
her waiting women stood silent and motionless, overcome 
by some great sorrow. 

Motioning the slaves and attendants to withdraw, the 
Queen held out her hands in welcome to Roxana, and 
when the latter would have knelt in humble obeisance, the 
Queen raised her up and tenderly embraced her. Then 
turning with abrupt movement to Alexander, she threw 
her arms about his neck, pressing her face with passion- 
ate love against his cheek. Thus she stood without 
speaking, her form shaken by the great sorrow that op- 

( 305 ) 


306 


Iskander 


pressed her. Respecting her grief Alexander remained 
silent, awaiting some explanation of her dejection and 
the confusion that reigned throughout her apartments; 
but when she neither stirred nor vouchsafed him a word, 
he at last exclaimed, his voice tremulous with the agi- 
tation that stirred his heart: 

‘‘Tell me, oh Queen, the cause of your anguish. What 
sorrow is it that consumes you and what means this con- 
fusion as if in preparation for some sudden journey?” 
Receiving no response to his appeal, he presently 
went on, striving the while to soothe her agitation with 
tender caresses : “We come, my mother, to pay you a visit 
of love and joy and find you stricken speechless by some 
great sorrow, so that overwhelmed at the sight we know 
not what to say or think.” 

“Let me share in your grief, oh Queen, if the love and 
honor I bear you is worthy of such great indulgence?” 
Roxana exclaimed, her eyes bedimmed with tears at sight 
of the grief of the strong Queen. 

At last lifting up her head, Olympias answered with a 
weary smile: 

“I had thought to hide my unhappiness, nor sadden 
those I love with the pitiable spectacle, for it is of such 
unwholesome nature that none can share it or in any way 
lessen its depth. Bear with my weakness, then, sweet 
children, now that you have come, for I shall not long 
mar your young lives with my melancholy presence,” and 
taking their hands in hers she drew them tenderly to her 
side. 

“What mean you, oh Queen, by such strange speech? 
and wherefore this great sorrow which we would fain 


307 


Exile of Olympias 

share if you will,” Alexander exclaimed, fervently kiss- 
ing his mother. 

“I know I hav^ your love, Alexander, and so am not 
like one utterly forsaken; and yours, sweet Princess,” 
she added, seeing Roxana’s look of distress. ‘‘But all 
save those who followed me from my own country when 
I came here a bride have fallen away, and I am as one 
lost. The King and those who fawn upon him and thrive 
upon his favor turn from me to a new and fairer face, 
and so I, who gave Macedonia an heir, am no longer 
thought fit to be the Queen,” she answered, her face 
flushing at the humiliating confession. 

“What strange delusion is this, oh mighty Queen, for 
no one thinks or dreams of act so dastardly ! Our coun- 
try can never have another Queen nor wish for one so 
long as you may live,” Alexander answered, astonished at 
what she said. 

“Your eyes are more partial than the King’s, my son, 
else I should not now be driven from the court in dis- 
grace.” 

“Driven from the court, oh Queen?” Alexander an- 
swered, anger overclouding his face. “What mean you? 
Who will do such a thing and wherefore?” 

“It may not be concealed from you longer, my loving 
son, and it is to your honor that every one, either 
through love or fear, has kept it from you till now,” she 
answered with a melancholy show of pride. 

“What has been kept from me? Speak, mother, for 
I am tortured beyond endurance by your strange speech !’* 
Alexander cried impatiently, loth to accept the import of 
her speech. 


308 


Iskander 


“Know then, my son, that the King, tiring of his 
Queen, has this day divorced her, and a new Queen has 
been brought to the palace and now shares his apart- 
ments,^' she answered, her eyes flaming with jealous rage 
and hate. 

“No, no ! Not as Queen, mother. Another wife maybe, 
nothing more; and what does that matter after all these 
years of sorrow and abandonment; for in such things, 
you know full well, the King cannot be controlled,” Alex- 
ander answered, believing what she said, yet putting it 
away as one would a thing unutterable. 

“No, not a simple wife nor common mistress to flaunt 
her finery in the face of the Queen for a day and then 
disappear to make way for another, as in the past, but a 
Queen, oh Prince, wearing the crown and having the title 
and honor, if there be longer honor in it,” the unhappy 
woman answered with sad scorn. 

“It cannot be, sweet Queen, that the King should be 
thus disregardful of your honor and the country's good 
name. Some one has given circulation to the cruel story 
to cause you pain and further estrange you from the 
King.” 

“No, it was the King himself who told me, and now 
it is confirmed by the base and crawling sycophant Amyn- 
tas. And though I stooped to plead with the monster of 
lust to spare me the deep disgrace, he answered only by 
bidding me choose between exile and retirement to 
Edessa,” she answered, flushing at the recollection of the 
deep disgrace. 

“What answer did you make, brave Queen, to speech so 


309 


Exile of Olympias 

insulting?” Alexander murmured in response, scarce able 
to speak, so great was his rage. 

‘What think you I said, chivalrous Prince, save that in 
exile I might breathe the sweet air of heaven, while here 
it would strangle me.” 

“By the Gods above, you shall neither be exiled, oh 
Queen, nor quit the court ! Such disgrace would be intol- 
erable, and if he force open war, war it shall be!” Alex- 
ander cried, unable to restrain his fury. “But who is the 
subservient creature he has chosen to fill the dishonored 
office ?” 

“Cleopatra, Attains’ niece 1” she answered shortly, as if 
the name choked her. 

“That cannot be, oh Queen,” Alexander cried, sur- 
prised out of himself, “for within the hour she con- 
fessed — But no, no, the King cannot be thus tricked. Yes- 
terday so great, he cannot have fallen to such level of 
folly and degradation today.” 

“His infatuation for the painted courtesan knows no 
bounds, and, poor fool, he thinks her crazed with a like 
passion for himself. Oh, he has not fallen, for there are 
no depths of wickedness or human desire that his lust has 
not long since sounded,” she cried with bitter emphasis. 

“I will go to him, oh Queen. His kindness has ever 
been greater than my worth, and he cannot now put such 
disgrace upon you, my mother.” 

“No, you shall not suffer the humiliation, Alexander, 
for no one can turn Philip from a fixed resolve; and 
upon this he is determined. ’Tis too late, my son, for 
the marriage is already consummated and the station of 
the woman fixed.” 


310 


Iskander 


can still withdraw if he will, being all powerful, 
Alexander answered despairingly. 

“He will not. Nor will I parley with the beast further, 
but flying hence, cleanse my throat of the air that his 
presence contaminates.” 

“Fly ! What have you in mind, oh Queen ? Is that the 
meaning of this dire confusion?” he cried, looking around 
at the dismantled rooms. 

“Yes, my child. Would you have me stay to make 
humble obeisance to the bastard Queen? No! I will not 
await her summons, but hasten ere this new indignity be 
put upon me.” 

“Not now, oh Queen, for there is no such haste. They 
dare not thus humiliate you, or if you be determined I 
will go with you to await in exile a happier fortune,” 
Alexander answered, caressing his mother. 

“No, you must stay. You shall not thus play into the 
hands of our enemies. You must remain to guard your 
fortunes and honor. The Kingdom is yours as much as 
Philip’s in right of succession. Away, he will be led to 
choose another in your place, and so the throne will be 
jeopardized or lost.” 

“He may so decree, but once the throne is vacant I will 
mount it though all Macedonia, misled by his creatures, 
should oppose me. Being King you shall be Queen as 
now, or if it is filled by another it shall be by my wife, 
and to your honor and greater dignity,” and taking Rox- 
ana’s hand, who stood surprised and dumfounded at 
what she heard, he went on : “Such a wife, oh Queen, I 
have chosen. Behold and greet her, I beseech you, as 
her grace and sweetness merit,” and kneeling with Rox- 


311 


Exile of Olympias 

ana before the Queen, they caught hold of her garments 
in prayerful supplication. 

“I could not have chosen one more worthy to be your 
Queen, nor one I so greatly love,'’ the Queen answered, 
no way surprised, putting her arm about Roxana and 
lifting her up. “But the King will never consent to such 
union, and has so declared himself to me, for he already 
has word of your passion.” 

“I shall not ask his consent, for in this I will have my 
way, nor relinquish it were all the world offered me as 
the dower of another,” he answered, kissing Roxana's 
hand. 

“So I would have you. But if you would possess her 
for your Queen you must bide the hour, nor seek to hasten 
it lest the army, heated with expectancy of conquest, de- 
stroy you both ere it think a second time. Or if you be 
allowed to live it will be in exile, to your and her lasting 
unhappiness,” the Queen answered solemnly. 

“Nay, I would gladly relinquish the uncertain bauble 
if thereby we might live apart and free from the warring 
factions and intrigues of the court,” Alexander answered, 
turning to Roxana with a loving smile. 

“No, Iskander, you shall not hurry to your overthrow 
and death by such unworthy preference,” Roxana inter- 
posed, clasping her arms about Alexander. “For your 
assurance would not be believed, and once you were dis-^ 
armed and powerless, your enemies would lose no time 
in effecting your death.” 

“If you would live, oh Prince, you must meet cun- 
ning with greater cunning, guarding your life and hopes 
perpetually as from enemies intent upon your destruction. 


312 


Iskander 


Nor shall you break with the King, my son, grievous as 
is the wrong he has done me; for, tiring of this new 
passion, as of every other, he will at last be led to respect 
your rights, and so you will in the end come to the throne 
without strife.’' 

‘^How can I obey you in this, oh Queen, when I no 
longer respect or cherish him? This wanton indignity 
chills my heart, and if I profess affection it will be with- 
out sincerity, and so must end in strife. No, I will go 
with you and in Epirus await the outcome that must 
surely attend this mesalliance.” 

“You shall not. I, your Queen, command it. Or, if 
that be not enough, your mother begs it, Alexander. Here 
you shall stay unless, indeed, some great indignity be put 
upon you, or your life be threatened. No ! Do not de- 
stroy me utterly, Alexander. Do not make my despair 
greater by thus relinquishing your birthright to our ene- 
mies. Come, my son, my sweet Prince, tell me you will 
not, for otherwise I shall kill myself, so that my unhappy 
fortunes may no longer overcloud your future.” 

“I cannot promise, oh Queen. ’Twould be folly, for 
who can measure the insolence and oppression of those 
who now have possession of the King ?” 

“But you will at least await some overt act, some great 
excuse. Nay, you must, you shall, for I will by no means 
listen to your going at this time. There! embrace me, 
my son, and leave me. And you, sweet Princess, adieu 
till we meet beneath a less troubled sky. Or, if perchance, 
that should never be, cherish Alexander and his hopes 
with a brave and loving heart, as his mother has ever 
sought to do. To your wedlock I freely give my consent, 


313 


Exile of Olympias 

but await the propitious moment for its public avowal; 
until it conforms more nearly to the interests of the state, 
nor by undue haste alienate those who love and would 
serve you,” the Queen exclaimed, her anxieties melting 
her heart at the dark prospect that overshadowed her son, 
and she whom he would make his Queen. 

“This I promise you, oh Queen,” Roxana answered, 
kissing her hand, “for I would rather die, as you have 
but now avowed for yourself, than cloud the glory of 
Iskander’s life by any act of mine.” 

“By waiting, sweet Princess, you will assure both his 
happiness and your own. For, unless misled by some act 
of his, the army will surely assert his right to the throne 
when it becomes vacant. Once he is King and the time 
is ripe, he may make you Queen and so fulfill our every 
hope. There, go, my children, and you, my son, be wise 
and brave and kingly amid the dangers that threaten 
you,” and kissing them amid her tears she would have 
thus dismissed them. 

“You will not seek to leave the court, my mother, ex- 
cept with such honor as your friends may bestow and the 
escort and regal state that befits so great a Queen,” Alex- 
ander answered, standing still. 

“What matters it? Public leave-taking would be un- 
seemly, and my Molossian sailors and guards will afford 
me every protection, for I am still their Queen, oh Prince, 
and shall be to the end, however it may be with others,” 
she answered with some show of her former pride. 

“But Roxana, my love, oh Queen. She shall not re- 
main here, you being gone, to be made the pla3dhing of 
Cleopatra.” 


314 


Iskander 


^‘She will by no means molest her, Alexander, but 
rather seek to do her honor, hoping thereby to gain 
strength in her new position,’' the Queen answered, sur- 
prised at his vehemence. 

“You know not what you say, oh Queen. Nor can 
^you measure Cleopatra’s enmity or its strange origin,” 
'Alexander cried, remembering the deep hatred she had 
evinced toward the Persian Princess. “No, her life is 
not secure an hour within the palace under the new 
Queen. Seek not, my mother, to know why, but rather 
help me to find some way to avoid the danger.” 

“Where can she go and still be safe if what you say 
be true?” the Queen answered, perplexed. 

“Nor can I thus leave my father, Iskander. My going 
thus hurriedly would be thought so great an indignity by 
the King that he would, in his anger, drive the embassy 
from the palace,” Roxana interposed, her fair brow 
clouded with anxiety. 

“Why may she not go, and with you, oh Queen, to pay 
a visit of ceremony to the Princess Parcledes, and being 
there stay on indefinitely?” Alexander asked, his brow 
clearing at the thought. 

“Can I do this, Iskander, when the King expects me 
to personate the Persian Queen at the banquet tonight?” 
Roxana asked, perplexed. 

“A slave will do as well, sweet Princess, and no one 
be the wiser,” Alexander exclaimed decisively. “Thus, 
as I propose, you may escape the danger that threatens 
and avoid injuring your father’s cause.” 

“Have it as you will, Iskander, for I have no will to 
oppose to yours,” Roxana answered, giving way. 


315 


Exile of Olympias 

^‘Hasten then to advise your father, sweet Princess, 
and return quickly that my departure may not be de- 
layed,” the Queen answered, dismissing them. 

Taking their leave, Alexander and Roxana hastened 
toward the part of the fortress occupied by the Persian 
embassy, their minds too full of the thoughts that op- 
pressed them to admit of speech. Meeting Lysimachus 
on the way, the latter stopped them, crying out : 

‘The King sends his greeting, oh Prince, and com- 
mands you a second time on no account to absent yourself 
from the banquet tonight.” 

“Wherefore does he repeat the summons, good Lysi- 
machus, and in such peremptory language?” Alexander 
asked, surprised. 

“I know not, oh master, only that he returned to the 
palace a little while ago, and with such black looks that 
everyone sought some excuse to hurry away as quickly 
as he could. Calling Antipater he gave directions that 
the guard at the entrance to the palace be doubled and no 
one be admitted after nightfall save those seen and ap- 
proved by the Governor.” 

Surmising the cause of the King’s ill temper, but by 
no means understanding the occasion of these precau- 
tions, Alexander would have gone on his way but Lysi- 
machus, standing still, exclaimed in a loud voice : 

“Nor was that all, oh Prince, but as if some danger 
threatened, the King further ordered that only old and' 
trusted sentries be posted about the palace tonight, and 
that the watchword be changed at the last moment.” 

“What is it to be?” Alexander asked absently. 

“I know not, for it may only be divulged to those 


316 


Iskander 


whose duty calls them without the fortress,” Lysimachus 
answered, shame-faced at being left in ignorance. 

‘‘Already danger threatens you, Iskander,” Roxana ex- 
claimed with anxious voice when they were alone. 

“No, fear not, sweet Princess. The King cannot so 
soon have turned against me. It is but some simple pre- 
caution attendant upon tonight’s festivities, when many 
from the city will come to view the spectacle,” Alexander 
answered with troubled brow. 

“Wherefore his black looks at so joyous a time, if that 
be all? Oh look well to yourself, sweet Prince, nor 
trust any but those in whom you can confide your life.” 

“The walls have ears, sweet Princess, and it behooves 
all who are threatened to have a confident air, however 
ill at ease they may be,” Clitus exclaimed at her elbow. 
“A closed mouth and a ready weapon are what the times 
call for, oh Prince, or I am a beggar at guessing,” and 
lifting his arm Clitus hurried on as if his thoughts were 
wholly intent on the duties he had in hand. 

“Clitus is ever fearful that some danger threatens me,” 
Alexander exclaimed as if to reassure Roxana. “I will 
go in person to learn the meaning of these precautions. 
Good master,” he went on, calling to Lysimachus, “go to 
the King and say I crave audience with him if it be his 
pleasure.” 

“I dare not, oh Prince. Choose some other messen- 
ger, I pray you, for he has given orders that only Attains 
and his niece are to be admitted to his presence.” 

“It is as I feared, Iskander. Only your enemies are 
allowed the King’s ear. Go arm yourself, and by no 
means attend the banquet tonight, despite the King’s 


317 


Exile of Olympias 

order. Such happenings in Susa ever foretell some 
dreadful tragedy to those out of favor with the great 
King.” 

“No, I will not let my enemies say I feared to show 
myself when danger threatened, if it be true that some 
plot is brewing in which I am concerned,” Alexander an- 
swered, his eyes blazing defiantly. 

“Then go armed, and hide a coat of steel beneath your 
cloak, if you will incur the needless danger.” 

“No, sweet Princess. If I am doomed, such device, 
the fruit of apprehension, will only hasten its coming. 
The precautions taken are not the King’s, who knows not 
what fear is, but Attalus’, who suspects others of the 
treachery he, himself, ever practices. No, sweet love, I 
will go to the banquet, and with no other arms than those 
worn about the court,” Alexander answered decisively. 

“Then you are doomed to death, Iskander, for sure I 
am some plot is formed to bring about your destruction,” 
she answered with a woman’s cunning instinct. 

“No, sweet love, for I shall have Clitus and other good 
friends about me. Let us not fear the conflict if it must 
come, but rather court it that the murky atmosphere may 
the sooner clear. It is amidst such dangers that our 
princes live, and they may not escape them if they would, 
my sweet.” 

“I would persuade you if I could, but being weak must 
yield to your stronger will ; but remember, Iskander, that 
you treasure another’s heart that will no longer beat when 
yours is still.’' 

To this Alexander made no other response than to kiss 
Roxana’s hand as they hurried forward. Reaching her 


318 


I skander 


apartments they found the Princess Sylvia, Philip’s 
daughter by his Dacian wife, awaiting Roxana’s return. 
Seeing her as they approached, Alexander asked in sur- 
prise : 

‘What errand brings her here, think you, Roxana?” 

“She often visits me thus, being most kind in her at- 
tentions. But now I suspect she comes with reference to 
the evening festivities, for the Princess, thinking the 
Persian dress more resplendent than that of her own 
country, wishes to appear thus disguised and so comes, 
I doubt not, to seek my aid.” 

“Will you do what she asks?” Alexander inquired, 
striving to detect some hidden purpose in the exchange 
which Sylvia desired to make. 

“Yes, and indeed beg her to appear in my place as 
the Persian Queen if she be so inclined. Then if the 
imposition be discovered the King cannot be angry with 
his daughter for the deception,” Roxana answered, hur- 
rying forward. 

The Princess Sylvia, on the request being preferred of 
her, joyfully acceded to the other’s wishes, and the mat- 
ter being quickly arranged, Roxana hastened to her father 
to gain his permission to visit the Princess Parcledes. In 
this she had no great difficulty, for Oxyartes, the brave 
•and single-minded soldier that he was, believed his 
daughter to be the wisest and best woman in the world, 
and so believing, allowed her to do, in all things, exactly 
as she wished. Having gained his permission and every? 
thing pertaining to the visit being happily arranged, Alex- 
ander and Roxana returned to the Queen, whom they 
found impatiently awaiting their coming. Welcoming 


319 


Exile of Olympias 

them with a sad smile, she at once gave orders for her de- 
parture. Nor was this long delayed, the slaves and attend- 
ants who were to accompany her being already domiciled 
on board the great galley, which lay moored at the private 
entrance to the fortress. This noble vessel, the Queen’s 
own, was manned throughout by her Molossian country- 
men, for neither now nor in the past would she trust any 
others. Midway of the vessel a lofty mast carried a wide 
spreading sail of crimson cloth in imitation of the Egyp- 
tian fashion, and in supplement to this a hundred oars- 
men helped to propel the gallant ship. At either end of 
the galley, platforms served the purposes of the guard or 
afforded vantage ground in case of attack or defense. 
Beneath that, in the rear, a spacious saloon was prepared 
for the Queen and smaller rooms for her attendants. In 
the prow similar space served for the soldiers and officers 
who manned the galley. Such was the noble vessel on 
which the brave Queen set out on her long voyage 
through the ^gean and Ionian seas on her way to Epirus, 
the country of her birth. Going on board, accompanied 
by Alexander and Roxana, the resolute Queen assuming 
command of the ship, gave instant orders to weigh an- 
chor. 

^‘Say to the oarsmen,” she cried, calling the captain to 
her side, as the galley got under way, ‘ffhat they shall 
have triple pay and allowances of wine if tomorrow’s 
dawn finds the ship in the open waters of the Gulf.” 

Thus this great and most unhappy Queen took her de- 
parture from the capital of Macedonia, where her two 
children were bom and where she had passed so many 
distressful years of wedded life. Gaining the open river, 


320 


Iskander 


the swift galley shot forward in its course to the south 
with ever-increasing speed. Standing on the raised plat- 
form of the ship the Queen and her companions watched 
with aching hearts and tear-dimmed eyes the fast reced- 
ing fortress and adjacent city. Approaching the hut of 
Parcledes, the Queen could not be prevailed upon to dis- 
embark, but announced her purpose to proceed without 
delay. Embracing Roxana with tender love, she turned 
to Alexander and clasped him in her arms, her counte- 
nance agitated by the grief she sought in vain to control. 
At last, releasing him, she led him to the side of the ship, 
exclaiming : 

‘‘Be steadfast and true, my Prince, and await with such 
patience as you can the coming of happier days.” Clasp- 
ing him again in her arms and kissing him with fervent 
love, she turned and hurriedly entered her room. 

Unable to speak, Alexander and Roxana went on board 
the Prince’s barge, which had followed after with Ossa 
and the guard and attendants of the Princess. With their 
departure, the galley of the Queen responding to the com- 
mand of the captain, quickly resumed its rapid flight, and 
though Alexander and Roxana watched with tearful eyes 
and throbbing hearts until the vessel was lost to view, the 
Queen came not from her retirement. A prey to her de- 
spairing sorrow she remained hidden within the privacy 
of her room and emerged not again until the staunch ship 
buffeted the troubled waters of the ^gean Sea. 

When, at last, the galley had passed from view, Alex- 
ander brought his barge to the shore, and taking Roxana’s 
hand led her in sorrow to the door of Parcledes’ hut. 
Great was the surprise and pleasure of the Princess at 


321 


Exile of Olympias 

their coming, but greater still her astonishment to learn 
of the flight of tlie Queen and the surprising happenings 
at the court of Philip, for this unhappy Princess lived 
apart and in such lonely retirement that she heard little 
or nothing of the great world without; treasuring the 
memory of her husband and full of the care of her daugh- 
ter, she gave little or no thought to aught else. Welcom- 
ing Roxana as if she were a favored child, and assuring 
her of the happiness her coming gave, she shortly has- 
tened away to make suitable provision for the Princess' 
comfort. 

Left alone, Alexander and Roxana clasped their arms 
about each other in fervent love, overcome by the sad 
happenings of the day. Scarce speaking, so full were 
their hearts, the afternoon waned and Alexander still 
stayed on, soothed and comforted by Roxana’s presence. 
Nor would he have gone when the sun at last disappeared 
behind the distant mountains, had not Roxana put her 
arm about him and led him to the river bank, where his 
barge lay moored. There, taking sad leave of her and 
promising to return on the morrow, Alexander went 
aboard and the sailors plying their oars with hearty zeal, 
the vessel shot into the stream and so quickly regained 
the city^ 


CHAPTER XXIV. 


THE HISTORICAL BANQUET OF PHILIP. 

In conformity with the simple habits of his life, and 
that the feast might not be unduly delayed nor needlessly 
cut short, Philip ordered the setting of the banquet for 
an early hour. So that the day had scarcely closed ere 
the guests gathered with military promptness in the great 
hall of audience off the King’s private room. While they 
thus stood about discussing in low voices and with many 
a covert laugh the surprising events of the day Philip 
abruptly entered, followed by the new favorite Attains. 
Of commanding presence and kingly mien, Philip looked 
as he strode forth what he truly was, the foremost man 
of all the world. His massive and well-shaped head cov- 
ered with curly black hair was surmounted by a golden 
crown heavily incrusted with resplendent jewels. About 
his strong arms and neck he wore, according to the fash- 
ion of the age, numerous bands of gold heavily incrusted 
with jewels. A long cloak of Tyrian purple, trimmed 
with fur, partially hid the rich coat of embroidered gold 
that he wore beneath. 

Sweeping the room with quick glance and noting Alex- 
ander’s absence, a deep frown overspread his bronzed and 
rugged features; but this presently giving place to a 
smile of welcome, he greeted those assembled with kingly 
courtesy. Going directly to each guest standing ex- 
pectant in a semi-circle about the great room, he said some 

( 322 ) 


The Historical Banquet of Philip 323 

word of friendship or greeting to each and every one. 
Then, preceded by the officers of the court, and at- 
tended by the royal pages, the King took his way without 
loss of time to the banqueting hall. After him and more 
like captives than aught else, came the Persian Ambassa- 
dors, their brilliant raiment blazing with resplendent jew- 
els. Following them in order o-f their rank came the 
Macedonian nobles and inferior guests of the evening. ' 

As the procession emerged upon the wide balcony of 
the spacious court, musicians, in picturesque costumes, 
sounding their instruments, preceded the stately line of 
march. First in order came a group of handsome youths, 
blowing long and slender horns of silver, costumed in 
sleeveless tunics of clinging white cloth, trimmed with 
red and gold. Their legs were bare to the knees while 
sandals covered their feet, bound about the ankles with 
strands of gold. Following them came youths clad in 
short coats of blue, trimmed with Grecian bands of 
white, playing fifes adorned with gold. Surmounting 
their heads high pointed hats of pure white, adorned with 
waving plumes, strangely contrasted with the wreaths of 
green that encircled the heads of those preceding them. 
Following these came youths, ten in number, playing 
flutes with silver mountings. They were costumed in 
short tunics of pale green cloth, trimmed with bands of 
gold about the skirt and waist and adorned with girdles 
of pure silver. Their long and luxuriant hair, flowing 
loose about their graceful heads, was adorned with deli- 
cate wreaths of myrtle. 

Preceding the stately procession, the musicians trav- 
ersed the embowered galleries, entering at last by a path 


324 


Iskander 


hidden by shrubs, the oblong space set apart for the ban- 
quet in the center of the great court. In adornment of 
this, waving palms and tropical plants and flowers of bril- 
liant hue gave to the enclosure an air of seclusion truly 
sylvan. At one side a silken canopy, surmounted by a 
golden crown, was raised above the crimson divan, for 
the King. Back of this the royal pages, having the privi- 
lege of dining with the monarch, were provided a place 
partially hidden by the luxuriant foliage. About the 
edge of the open space, half concealed by the wealth of 
shrubs and brilliant flowers, silver lamps fllled with per- 
fumed oil, and huge bronze pots containing Pierian pitch 
cast a mellow light over the attractive scene. To give 
greater effect to the dazzling picture the lofty balconies 
of the palace were left in darkness, except as the soft light 
of the moon and flaming torches placed far apart, served 
in some measure to illuminate the gloomy enclosure. Thus 
those who looked down could see without being seen, 
except imperfectly, like phantoms peering forth, or shad- 
ows flitting hither and thither. 

Long ere the feast was called or darkness had set in, 
the balconies were filled with the expectant guests, prome- 
nading back and forth awaiting the great event. Of these 
some were without disguise of any kind, while others 
wore masks or were dressed in such curious and fantastic 
garb as their ingenuity suggested. Moving uneasily back 
and forth or standing still, striving to make out the iden- 
tity of those who passed, the semi-twilight, distorting the 
silent figures, gave to the scene a weird and barbaric as- 
pect, menacing rather than enlivening. In the midst of 
the revelers a group of ladies, dressed in the brilliant cos- 


325 


The Historical Banquet of Philip 

tumes of the Persian court, slowly promenaded the 
crowded balconies. In their midst and wearing a re- 
splendent tiara, the Persian Queen received the adoration 
and homage of those about her. Keeping ever near her, 
as if curious, a woman, old and crippled, disguised as a 
priestess of Dodona, followed, telling the fortunes of 
those who cared to listen. To add a tinge of levity to the 
scene, mountebanks and clowns with distorted features, 
or the faces of hideous animals, rushed here and there 
with subdued cries, or perched themselves on conspicuous 
places of vantage. 

When some time had passed and the air of curiosity 
had given place to one of impatience, the music of trum- 
pet, flute and fife, sounding clear and musical from the 
court below, announced the coming of the revelers. In 
honor, beside the King, as the procession emerged into 
the open space, Attains walked. Not with the haughty 
and assured brow that he usually wore, but as if the dig- 
nity were unsought and of doubtful expediency. Delayed 
by his journey, Alexander followed behind, alone, with 
absent manner and melancholy visage. A short crimson 
cloak enveloped his shoulders and partly hid the resplend- 
ent coat of Sicilian cloth embroidered in gold that he 
wore beneath. On his head he wore the Kausia, sur- 
mounted by the waving white ostrich feathers which in 
the years to follow were to become the oriflamme of his 
devoted soldiers. As he came slowly on those who 
looked with friendly eyes sighed when they saw his 
troubled face, knowing full well the anguish that filled 
his heart. 

As the King reclined upon the royal divan, placed 


326 


Iskander 


somewhat above the others, it was seen by those who 
watched that his face was already deeply flushed with 
wine. Motioning Attalus to occupy the couch at his left, 
the Persian Ambassadors were shown with stately cere- 
mony to those reserved for them upon his right. Beyond 
them, in an obscure place, half concealed by overhanging 
palms, the scholar and teacher Aristotle reclined amid the 
gallants of the court. Abstracted in manner, he seemed 
not to know where he was, his pale face and luminous 
eyes turned upward toward the star-lit sky, appeared as 
if seeking the solution of some weighty problem. Ad- 
vancing to the center of the open space, Alexander 
gravely saluted the King and afterwards his old instruc- 
tors, Lysimachus and the princely Leonidas. But Aris- 
totle, inattentive, absorbed in thought, neither saw nor 
heeded his kindly greeting. Glancing about him, the sor- 
rowing Prince saw few of his friends, and knowing the 
slight could not have occurred by chance, an angry frown 
crimsoned his fair face. Standing irresolute for a mo- 
ment, Clitus, making deep obeisance, conducted him to a 
couch opposite the King, himself and the faithful Eu- 
menes occupying those on either side. 

All being now placed, silver basins filled with per- 
fumed water were presented to the guests, in which to 
lave their hands; these being succeeded by napkins of 
snow white linen. The guests having thus cleansed their 
hands, the usual sacrifice was offered, followed by liba- 
tions of wine. This being completed and the feast being 
next in order, the hungry guests dipped into the dishes 
before them without ceremony or word of any kind. Say- 
ing some graceful thing to the Persian nobles and others 


327 


The Historical Banquet of Philip 

about him, the King barely touched the food before him, 
but impatiently motioned the cup-bearer to fill his empty 
goblet. This being the signal, soon the cups of all were 
filled with the golden wine, whereupon each guest rose to 
his feet and inclining his head in graceful obeisance to 
the King emptied his goblet at a draught. Everyone being 
in a mood to eat, and the ceremony simple in the extreme, 
the courses of the banquet were served in quick succes- 
sion. These were accompanied with the soft music of 
the lyre and lute or the more strident tones of the inspir- 
ing harp. Presently the appetites of the guests being 
somewhat appeased, their spirits were enlivened by the 
wanton performances of half-nude dancing girls, to the 
sound of tambourine and castanet. These tiring, strolling 
players with faces stained with lees or covered with 
masks, chanted their comic parts or recited their melan- 
choly lays. Giving way in their turn, mountebanks and 
tumblers went through their allotted parts amidst the ap- 
plause or derisive cries of the half-drunken revelers. As 
the evening advanced and the King and those about him 
became enlivened by the heavy wine, laughter and loud 
talk succeeded the sober demeanor that characterized the 
earlier stages of the feast. Philip, who seemed not in 
good temper, was not sparing in what he said, but spurred 
everyone to such lively exhibition of temper or jollity as 
his varying moods suggested. 

‘‘Good friends, why can not men whatever be their 
nationality dwell together in peace and amity as do these 
savage dogs ?” he at last cried, smiling upon the Persian 
nobles as he threw morsels of meat to the Molossian 
hounds that stood watching him expectantly. 


328 


Iskander 


‘‘Greed or fear alone stand in the way, oh King,’’ Ox- 
yartes answered amiably, thinking of the threatening war 
between Persia and Macedonia. 

“A good reason and all in favor of the dogs,” Clitus, 
whom the events of the day had grieved and angered, re- 
sponded in a loud voice. “Yet I hate them except when 
they tear down the antlered buck or bait the savage boar. 
At other times they have too much the cringing habits of 
men.” 

“You slander the brutes, Clitus. Nothing could be more 
noble than the bearing and faces of these animals,” the 
King responded, fondling the hound nearest him. 

“A crust ennobles and tames them, oh King, as it does 
the hangers-on about the courts of kings,” Clitus an- 
swered in no pleasant voice, looking around upon the 
followers of Attains. 

“We could forgive your hatred of dogs, Clitus, if your 
heart softened more to the seductive wiles of women,” 
the King answered good naturedly. 

“I do not know, oh King, never having been much 
tempted,” Clitus answered foolishly. 

“Nor will you be, good friend, for women love not in- 
attentive eyes,” the King answered, scanning the face of 
the old soldier with a kindly smile. “Your scarred fea- 
tures they would gladly overlook, if you were but more 
appreciative of their beauty.” 

“My scars should recommend me to their favor, oh 
King, for I got them every one in your glorious service.” 

“It were a good recommendation, Clitus, if you did not 
lack soft speech and the sensibility of love. It is a fatal 
fault. Men like horses and dogs because of companion- 


The Historical Banquet of Philip 329 

ship, but love and adore women because they have to 
and so tell them,” the King answered, filling his cup and 
holding it up as if toasting the absent Cleopatra. ^‘How 
comes it, oh Lysimachus,” he went on presently, his mood 
changing, as he observed the poor pedagogue still intent 
upon filling his stomach, ^‘that while no one in the king- 
dom is so ready as you with his fingers when the pot is 
brought, yet you have scarce meat enough on your bones 
to feed a hawk.” 

‘‘It is because of the dual office he fills, oh King,” At- 
tains interposed, “for his brain absorbs what goes to 
nourish the bodies of other men. And in his case, be- 
ing a teacher,” he went on with a sneer, “he must think 
for both himself and his callow pupil.” 

“His callow pupil, vain man!” Clitus cried in a rage, 
“lacks not ability to think for himself nor strength to 
punish those who deride him, as you will find out in due 
time.” 

“Nor is that the only burden the pedant bears,” Amyn- 
tas interposed derisively, disregarding Clitus’ speech, “for 
beneath his ill-fitting jacket and shrunken form another 
man than he must be nourished.” 

“Who may that be, noble Prince?” the King cried in 
response, highly entertained at the turn the speech had 
taken. 

“Who think ye, oh King, but Phoenix, the precursor of 
Achilles,” Amyntas answered with a laugh. 

“Does the simpleton still cherish that delusion?” the 
King asked in an angry voice, his heart filled with jeal- 
ousy of Alexander. “If what he avers be true, then I, the 
father of Achilles, must needs already be put aside or 


330 Iskander 

dwell among the dead and so be of no further use to 
men.” 

“So it would seem from his boastings and* the encour- 
agement it receives,” Amyntas answered with heightened 
voice. “See, oh King, he heeds us not; but hungry still, 
dips to the very bottom of the steaming dish to pick some 
tender morsel thence to glut his ravenous appetite.” 

“Nor is his body less busy than his hands, but works 
back and forth like the terrible constrictor, that he may 
the sooner empty his throat for what is to follow,” At- 
tains cried, glancing at Alexander, amid the laughter of 
those about him. 

“ ’Tis said he accustoms his fingers to boiling water 
that he may reach deep and long into the steaming dishes 
while others wait in idleness,” Amyntas responded iron- 
ically. 

“Who can doubt it unless the dirt on his hands prove 
the contrary. For true it is that his fingers are ever first 
to find the succulent piece in every dish, leaving others 
the less savory parts for their share,” Attains cried in 
scornful mirth. 

“It is better for the country that he have his fingers 
deep in the stew, than in the King’s treasury, as is truly 
said of those who scoff at him,” Alexander cried, arous- 
ing himself and referring to Attains’ well-known greed. 
“Nor is it seemly in nobles so exalted to load an honest 
and inferior man with ridicule for fools to laugh at,” he 
concluded raising his head aloft and flashing a look of 
contempt on those who ridiculed the harmless old man. 

“No, not if the deserving man has perchance discov- 
ered some strong resemblance in an exalted person to the 


The Historical Banquet of Philip 331 

chivalrous Achilles/' Attains answered in his biting way. 
“Nay, I crave pardon, illustrious Prince, if I have of- 
fended. But absurd things sometimes come tripping into 
our thoughts unbidden, and so it is with regard to Lysi- 
machus and his silly delusion." 

“While you talk your cups are empty and the wine 
skins sweat or overflow on the thirsty floor," the King 
cried, holding out his cup to be filled. “Drink, all of you 
and be merry while Antipater, lost to every virtue, keeps 
guard about the brimming horn. Come, Amyntas, master 
of the feast, let not the dancing girls pine longer in ob- 
scurity. Bring them forth again that we may view their 
generous limbs and revel in their amorous glances ere 
our eyes, dulled with wine, can no longer discern the lean 
from the fat," and placing his drinking cup of solid gold, 
in shape and size like a bull’s horn, to his lips, the King 
emptied it at a draught. 

Amyntas thus instructed beckoned the half-clad danc- 
ers to approach near to the King that his fading senses 
might feel their warmth and enlivening presence. The 
musicians, too, responding with energy to their office, the 
blare of the brazen trumpet and the softer strains of pipe 
and flute presently created such noise and confusion that 
speech of every kind was for the moment silenced. Mo- 
tioning them after a while to cease, the King turned to 
Oxyartes and thinking to say some pleasant word, ex- 
claimed : 

“You find our fare meager, noble Prince, but if our 
food be heavy the wine is also strong, and therein we 
make some amends to our guests. In drinking, though, as 
in every agreeable vice, we are but novices beside your 
noble race." 


332 


Iskander 


^‘It would be an unpardonable offense, oh King, to al- 
low you to deny your greater excellence in that as in 
every other thing worthy the regard of men,” Oxyartes 
answered, rising and bowing to the King. 

‘Tut, tut! We are but just born and have everything 
to learn from the children of the great King. And, as 
in other things, and therein is the pity, he shames his 
royal brother in the number and glory of his wives. But 
’tis a thing that may be made good,” the King went on 
with maudlin humor, “and so I may hope to remedy it 
with age and greater opportunity.” 

“It is a privilege much commended in Persia, oh King, 
and worthy of being followed elsewhere by the enlight- 
ened rulers of the world,” Mithrines interposed with 
malicious humor. 

“It is a custom more fit for animals than men,” hic- 
coughed Lysimachus, overcome with drink. “Kings 
should be content with one wife. All others — ” But 
some one pulling him back on his couch ere he could 
complete the sentence, the old man presently fell forward 
in a drunken stupor. 

The King not hearing or not wishing to hear went on : 

“Yes, noble Mithrines, the custom commends itself and 
I shall not fail to set a good example in respect of it to 
my successor,” and lifting his cup he drained it to the 
bottom. 

“The great King will feel honored and flattered by 
your commendation,” Mithrines cried in a loud voice, 
emptying his goblet in response. 

“The custom is as old as the monarchy in Macedonia, 
and the gracious consort our mighty King has this day 


The Historical Banquet of Philip 333 

taken to himself evinces its present strength and wis- 
dom,” Amyntas interposed, glancing scornfully at Alex- 
ander, who seemed neither to notice nor hear what was 
going on about him. 

The King, worn with the events of the day and con- 
scious of his growing intoxication, now raised himself 
and holding his drinking cup aloft cried in a thick voice: 

‘‘I propose to you exalted Persians and you my brave 
comrades and faithful subjects the happiness and long 
life of her exalted majesty, the beautiful and ever gra- 
cious Queen, Cleopatra.” 

Responding with one accord the guests rose to their 
feet, the friends of Cleopatra emptying their cups amid 
mutual congratulations and clamorous cries. When some 
quiet was at last restored Attalus sitting bolt upright on 
his couch cried in a loud voice so that those who watched 
from the gallery could plainly hear : 

‘‘In acclaiming Her Majesty the august Queen, Cleo- 
patra, oh King, the nation hope and believe that through 
her we may at last be blessed with a legitimate heir to the 
throne of Macedonia,” and holding out his goblet to be 
filled he gazed across at Alexander with a look of undis- 
guised hatred. 

Attalus’ bitter and insulting speech was followed for a 
moment by the silence of death. Then Alexander, his 
wine untouched, springing to his feet, cried in a voice 
of thunder: 

“Do you call me a bastard, you cringing dog!” and 
lifting his goblet with the words, he hurled it full in At- 
tains’ face. “Thus I answer all who traduce my mother, 
the Queen, or seek to cast dishonor on her son,” and 


334 


Iskander 


drawing his sword he would have killed Attains on the 
spot. But the King rising to his feet, his face distorted 
with passion and drink, cried out in the rude dialect of 
the Macedonian shepherds : 

“Is it thus, presumptuous Prince, that you defy your 
King and insult by word and deed those he honors?” 
and drawing his sword he started to strike Alexander 
down. But tripping on the lion skin that covered the 
steps of the raised platform, he fell to the floor in a faint, 
weakened by his wounds and intoxication. 

As the King advanced Alexander drew back, not wish- 
ing to appear to contend with him no matter what his 
purpose. But ere he could sheath his weapon Amyntas 
and those about him raised the fateful cry “Treason, 
Treason,” and drawing their swords, rushed forward in 
a body to attack the Prince. With the cry and by precon- 
certed movement the lights about the open place were 
extinguished, leaving the court in darkness save as the 
moon and the torches from above served in some measure 
to distinguish the movements of those present. Seeing 
the King fall Alexander hurried forward to lift him up, 
and doing so, saw Pausanias advancing upon the stricken 
monarch with upraised dagger. Observing this and not- 
ing the extinguishment of the lights, it flashed upon him 
that what was transpiring was not the result of chance, 
but the culmination of a plot to destroy both the King and 
himself. Springing forward and raising aloft his sword, 
he gave utterance to the well-known cry : 

“For the King! For the KingT 

Clitus observing the concerted movement and also di- 
vining the conspiracy, cried out hastily : 


The Historical Banquet of Philip 335 

“A plot! A plot!” rushing forward at the same time 
with Eumenes and Leonidas to the Prince’s aid. 

Well it was Alexander’s sword was in his hand, else 
he had been killed ere he could have released it from the 
scabbard. Parrying the thrusts of his enemies as he ad- 
vanced, he struck Pausa^nias down with the flat of his 
sword as the latter came forward, half creeping, half- 
running with uplifted dagger. Alexander’s companions 
pushing their way to his side, now formed a circle of 
flaring swords about the stricken King. But Amyntas 
and his party, nothing daunted, continued to attack them 
on every side, crying the while “Treason! treason! To 
the King’s rescue!” 

Thus in a moment the fierce cries of angry combatants 
and the resounding clash of steel on steel took the place 
of the hitherto peaceful revelry. Standing undaunted 
beside the unconscious King the weapons of Alexander 
and his friends flashed back and forth in the dim light as 
they struck down or warded off the swords of those who 
opposed them. In this way the strife continued amid 
fierce cries and imprecations, until Antipater, hearing the 
uproar, hastily collecting a body of soldiers, rushed in and 
put an end to the struggle. 

Thus, through the accident to the King, a thing all un- 
forseen, the carefully planned conspiracy of Amyntas 
and his friends came to naught. 

While Antipater busied himself removing the King, 
and as if to add greater stress to the turmoil, the sharp 
agonizing cry of a woman rang out on the gloomy court. 
Scarce had it ceased when a slave emerging from the pal- 
ace with a flaming torch, disclosed the terror-stricken 


336 


I skander 


women of the Persian embassy grouped about the pros- 
trate form of one of their number. Looking up and fear- 
ing some harm to the Princess Sylvia, he knew not why, 
Alexander hurriedly left his companions and mounting 
the stairs ran to the scene of commotion. Reaching the 
spot he was terror-stricken to discover the prostrate form 
of her who personated the Persian Queen, lying motion- 
less on the wide balcony. Kneeling down with a sob of 
anguish in his throat, knowing full well what he would 
find, he started back with a cry of horror to discover the 
gentle and inoffensive Princess already dead. Tearing 
apart, in a frenzy, the garments that covered her breast, 
a deep wound above the heart showed all too clearly how 
she had met her fate. Turning in rage and grief to those 
who stood looking on with wonder and affright, he cried 
in a loud voice: 

“Who has done this foul murder? Why do you not 
answer? Speak! Point out the cruel fiend!’’ he went 
on, scanning the faces of those about him, as no one 
stirred. 

At last, one of the attendants regaining her voice, an- 
swered with a shudder : 

“We do not know, oh Prince; but as we stood intently 
watching the strife below an old woman pushed her way 
forward, and reaching the side of the poor Princess, 
plunged a dagger in her bosom.” 

“Where is she? Bring her before me,” Alexander 
cried, looking about him in dismay. 

“We know not whence she fled, oh Prince, for imme- 
diately the blow was struck she turned and disappeared 
in the darkness, no one thinking to follow or hinder her.” 


The Historical Banquet of Philip 337 

Disappointed at the escape of the assassin but knowing 
full well from whence the blow had come, Alexander bent 
over and kissed Sylvia’s cold cheek, murmuring amid the 
sobs that filled his throat: “Alas, poor stricken child, in 
your thoughtless gayety you have met the cruel death de- 
signed for another as innocent as you of harm to any 
one.” 

Long he continued to gaze upon the face of his mur- 
dered sister, the events of the day passing in sad review 
before his dimmed eyes. But at last lifting the body 
tenderly in his arms he placed it upon the couch which 
slaves had hurriedly brought. Covering it with his crim- 
son cloak he walked beside the dead Princess as the at- 
tendants bore the body towards her apartments. Travers- 
ing the long galleries of the fortress their progress was 
stayed by the Queen as she sought with her attendants 
to pass in an opposite direction, toward the rooms of the 
King. Seeing Alexander approach with the slaves bear- 
ing the dead body, the Queen, affrighted and confused at 
the unexpected meeting, sought to pass on without stop- 
ping. But Alexander motioning the attendants to put 
down their burden approached Cleopatra, exclaiming in 
a voice broken by emotion: 

“Stay your steps, in passing, to breathe a prayer beside 
the body of her who lies yonder stricken to death.” 

“Are you serious, good Prince, or is it some masquer- 
ading pleasantry of the banquet?” she answered, striving 
to smile. 

“ ’Tis no pleasantry, for death is most serious and she 
is dead.” 

“I knew not before that such a thing had happened. 


338 


Iskander 


’Twill greatly shock the King, already ill,” she replied, 
striving to appear calm. “Was it some incident of the 
festival, growing out of the strife, or did it come in the 
natural sequence of life?” 

“She was murdered, and causelessly, by some monster 
in the guise of woman, void of heart or sensibility,” he 
cried, keeping his gaze fixed upon the agitated face of 
the Queen. 

“ ’Tis impossible such a crime could have been com- 
mitted here amid the vast throng. ’Twas her own act. 
It must have been,” she answered resolutely. 

“No, those with her saw the blow and noted the flight 
of the assassin,” he answered sternly. 

“The assassin !” she exclaimed with a shudder. “What 
was she like?” 

“The same as you in height,” he responded, dwelling 
on the words. “But being masked and otherwise dis- 
guised, they could make out nothing further. But come 
nearer, that you may look upon the face of the poor child 
and pay her the tribute of a sigh,” and grasping her by 
the arm he dragged her to the side of the bier. 

“No, no,” she cried, affrighted, holding back. “Not 
now, not now. Tomorrow will do as well. Now I am 
called to the side of the King, who may be dying,” she 
went on, striving to free herself. 

“Yes, now and here, for tomorrow will not do. Be- 
hold the grievous spectacle,” and with the words he threw 
back the cloak, disclosing the face of the dead Princess. 
“See !” he went on in a low voice, “ ’twas not Roxana 
the assassin struck, as she thought, but Sylvia, the King’s 
child.” 


The Historical Banquet of Philip 339 

Gasping in terror at his words her eyes unconsciously 
sought the white face of the murdered woman. Stricken 
to the heart and trembling in every limb Cleopatra turned 
and would have fled ; but her strength failing, she threw 
out her hands as if to put away the horrid spectacle, and 
murmuring a cry fell prostrate at Alexander’s feet. Call- 
ing to her attendants to come tO' her aid, Alexander, bid- 
ding the slaves take up the dead body, proceeded without 
further happening to the apartments of the stricken Prin- 
cess. 

Thus terminated the memorable banquet of Philip of 
which historians have never failed to make some note in 
their account of this great monarch. For it was here, 
it seemed, that the first breach between Philip and Alex- 
ander occurred. 


CHAPTER XXV. 

THE LEES OF THE WINE. 

Forming the soldiers about the prostrate monarch Anti- 
pater placed him upon a couch and so bore him to his 
chamber, the conspirators following with drawn swords 
as if fearful the King should be further attacked. Plac- 
ing the King upon his bed, restoratives were applied, fol- 
lowed by a steaming bath. Meanwhile the conspirators, 
forming a circle about the prostrate King, impatiently 
awaited his recovery. Nor had they long to wait, for the 
sturdy monarch, quickly overcoming his weakness, lay at 
his ease, listening to what was said by those who sur- 
rounded his couch. At last, raising himself and scanning 
the faces of those about him, he motioned Attains to ap- 
proach. 

“What is this they babble about an attempt on my 
life while I, borne down by wounds, lay stunned by my 
fall?” the King asked in a weak voice, passing his hand 
over his eyes as if they were still clouded with the fumes 
of wine. 

“Whatever you may have heard, oh King, it cannot 
have exaggerated the peril you were in,” Attains replied 
in a constrained voice. 

“What peril, and from whence, for I saw nothing? Or 
if there was some feeling while we feasted it was not 
out of the ordinary among the turbulent and jealous 
Princes.” 


( 340 ) 


The Lees of the Wine 


341 


‘‘In this case, oh King, weapons were drawn and the 
cry of treason raised as your friends rushed in to save 
you from death.” 

“To save me from death! Was it as serious as that, 
Attalus? Who were the friends to whom I am indebted 
for the service?” the King responded, somewhat sharply, 
as if loth to believe what the other said. 

“There were many, oh King, but some, more ready 
than the others, rushed forward, in peril of their lives, 
so deadly was the conflict about }'our prostrate body.” 

“Who were they, Attalus? I thought every one my 
friend, for even those most aggrieved by the state have 
received nothing but kindness at my hands,” the King 
answered in a troubled voice, passing his hand wearily 
across his brow. 

“Your forbearance has been as generous as it has been 
unexampled in the annals of Kings. In return the Princes 
favored by you have now reoaid your kindness at the risk 
of their lives.” 

“If what you say be true, why do you not name them ? 
Surely it is not a thing to be ashamed of. Come to the 
point, Attalus, and that quickly,” the King exclaimed, 
with heightened voice. 

“If I do not name them, oh King, it is because I am 
loth to grieve you by distinguishing between your friends 
and enemies where all have been trusted,” he answered 
evading the King’s command. 

“Quick ! their names, Attalus, ere I force you at the 
point of my sword,” the King cried in a frenzy, reaching 
for his weapon, which lay on a chair beside his couch. 

At this Attalus, as if alarmed at the other’s threat, re- 
plied : 


342 


Iskander 


“Know then, oh King, if you compel me to do that 
which I would fain avoid, they were Amyntas, Pausanias 
and the Lincestian Princes, all of kingly line. Coming 
to their aid many others fought not less bravely by their 
side.” 

“All you have named owe me the favor of their lives, 
for each has some claim to the throne, and so his life is 
forfeit to me,” the King responded, reflecting on what 
the other said. “These you name fought for their King; 
who, then, were the conspirators? Alexander, my son, 
did he stand idly looking on, hoping thus to find an open- 
ing to the throne? And Clitus, too, so strong of arm, did 
he not lift his hand?” the King asked, scarce above a 
whisper. 

“Yes, those you name were active with their swords, 
but not as I had thought, in defense of their King,” At- 
tains answered witli downcast head, as if the secret thus 
torn from him grieved him to the heart. 

“The Gods defend us ! Were they, too, among the con- 
spirators? Alexander, my son, whom I have loved 
and treasured ! And Clitus, whom I have ever preferred 
above others!” the King exclaimed, bowing his head in 
shame. 

“Yes, oh King, they led the attack, for no sooner had 
you fallen and the lights being extinguished as they 
planned than, drawing their weapons, they would have 
killed you where you lay had not your friends beat them 
off. Nor is that all, oh sorrowing King,” Attains went 
on as if bowed down with grief ; “for in the turmoil, so 
it appears, your daughter, the sweet Princess Sylvia, was 
most cruelly murdered, her assailant mistaking her for 
the Queen.” 


The Lees of the Wine 


343 


'‘Sylvia, my little Sylvia murdered, say you!” the King 
cried in surprise and anguish, falling back on his couch 
with staring eyes. 

“Yes, oh King, and most cruelly, as she looked on in 
fancied security from the heights above,” Attalus an- 
swered sorrowfully. 

“Ye Gods ! What offense had the poor child committed 
that she should have been thus punished?” the King mur- 
mured, covering his face with his trembling hands. 

“No offense, oh King, save that in innocent mirth she 
personated the Persian Queen among those who filled the 
balconies and so was mistaken for Cleopatra,” Attalus 
answered. 

“But the Princess Roxana was to have personated the 
Persian Queen, and so told me,” the sorrowing King an- 
swered, bewildered. 

“So it was to have been, but going this afternoon to 
pay a visit to the Princess Parcledes it was whispered 
about the palace that the Queen was to take her place in 
the innocent frolic. Thus Sylvia has fallen a victim in 
place of the Queen,” Amyntas answered with confident as- 
surance. 

“By all the Gods of high Olympus such murderous in- 
tent is past the belief of man,” the King exclaimed, arous- 
ing himself. “I will not leave one of the assassins alive. 
No, none shall escape me, however exalted his rank !” he 
went on with ominous reference to the Prince. “I will 
have them confronted with the child’s naked corpse and 
so force confession from their unwilling mouths, whether 
they will or no,” he concluded, his superstitious nature, 
in its sorrow, reverting to the ancient and revered ordeal 
of his people. 


344 


Iskander 


“It were a useless ceremony, oh King, for the Prince 
and those he has perverted think, as you know, but lightly 
of our sacred customs. The deed is but a part of the gen- 
eral plot and so false-swearing and counter-accusations 
will follow as a matter of course; for those, oh King, 
who seek to strike you down and murder your Queen, 
are as indifferent to oaths as they are to the lives of 
men,” Attains answered, as if there could be no doubt of 
the guilt of the accused. 

“I will look into it, and death, swift and terrible, shall 
be the fate of the assassins,” the King answered with 
grim ferocity. 

At this moment Antipater approaching, Philip turned 
to him in anger, exclaiming : 

“Were you, too, one of my assailants, that you should 
have been so conveniently absent when my life hung in 
the balance? Answer me, for as you know it is to your 
watchful eyes and sober head that I trust my body and 
throne when seeking reprie\^e of labor in the frivolities 
of the court.” 

“I am neither an assassin nor an abettor, as you well 
know, oh King,” Antipater answered resolutely. “I was 
absent making the rounds of the fortress, and so saw 
nothing of what occurred.” 

“Yes, yes, but have the conspirators been put under 
arrest? Surely this should have been done ere now,” the 
King queried fretfully. 

“No, oh King, for there was such* clatter of accusa- 
tion and counter-accusation that I knew not what to 
think, but finding you lying helpless I raised you in my 
arms and brought you here. Then seeing you safe and 


The Lees of the Wine 


345 


unharmed, I left you to look to the security of the for- 
tress,” Antipater answered simply. “Attains will confirm 
all I have said, and if he will, ean inform you of every- 
thing that occurred; of which I know nothing what- 
ever.” 

“It is as he avers, oh King,” Attains interposed. “He 
acted as is his wont, with promptness and fidelity, and 
cannot be censured in any way.” 

“That I, who have never distrusted those about me, 
should be threatened while feasting with my friends and 
in the presence of our Persian guests, fills me more with 
shame than fear,” the brave King answered truly 
enough. 

“It is the fate of Kings to be ever threatened, and 
happy the monarch who has loyal friends about his per- 
son to frustrate the plots of his enemies. Tonight those 
who would destroy you have been unsuccessful; tomor- 
row they may be more fortunate if you allow them un- 
constrained liberty,” Attains answered insinuatingly. 

“Tonight shall see them all under guard,” the King 
responded, flashing a look of determination on those pres- 
ent, “and that no time may be lost you will at once con- 
vene a council of officers to try them and pass judgment 
on their acts. And that no formal custom may be omitted, 
see that the verdict is approved afterwards by the com- 
mon soldiers,” he concluded with a bitter smile. 

“I will lose no time in doing as you command, oh 
King,” Attains answered with avidity, and this the more 
readily as all of the officers present were in the main 
participants in the conspiracy. And of the soldiers in 
Pella and about the palace he felt secure, as they had 


846 


Iskander 


been selected with a view to their fidelity to his interests 
at this important juncture of affairs. 

‘Xose not a moment. If I have been foolishly indul- 
gent heretofore, they shall find me not lacking in severity 
now,” the King exclaimed. “But where is the Queen?” 
he cried, looking about and noting her absence for the 
first time. “Was she not apprised of my illness and the 
attack on my life?” he continued angrily. 

“Yes, oh King, for I myself sent a page to tell her, and 
ere he left she made ready to obey the summons,” At- 
tains answered. “I know not the cause of her detention,” 
he went on, anxiously looking about him. 

“ ’Tis simple enough, oh King, for while hastening 
to your side she was met and detained by the Prince. I 
myself saw them, and when she would have put him off 
he grasped her by the arm and so detained her unwilling- 
ly. Until, at last, frightened by his speech and action, 
the poor Queen fainted, falling to the ground as one 
dead,” Amyntas interposed with malicious particularity, 
word having been brought him of the interview between 
Alexander and Cleopatra. 

“By the Gods, this is too much!” the King cried, his 
face purple with rage. “The impudence of the wretch 
surpasses belief. Was it not enough that he should have 
sought to kill me but he must now place my Queen in 
thralldom?” he went on, his anger increasing. “Go, At- 
tains, lose not a moment in placing him under arrest. 
This done, assemble the court, as I have said, and once 
the verdict is reached bring it to me. However w^k I 
may be, however decrepit they may think me, I still have 
strength to approve your action. There, go, it were 


The Lees of the Wine 


347 


vain to plead with me/’ he cried with savage energy as 
Attains seemed to hesitate; and grieved and angered be- 
yond power of speech, the poor King turned his face to 
the wall. Seeing this the conspirators slowly left the 
room, Attains bidding the guard at the entrance to the 
King’s room to deny access to every one save the Queen. 


CHAPTER XXVL 
Alexander's flight from pella. 

Fearful lest the King should change his mind, Attains 
lost no time in dispatching Lyncestes and a guard to ar- 
rest Alexander. This he had no difficulty in accomplish- 
ing, for on his explaining that it was the King’s order 
the Prince delivered up his sword, too much overcome 
by this last stroke of misfortune to protest against the 
outrage. Afterwards, upon being ushered into his cell, 
he was surprised and his heart stirred to find it to be 
that reserved for condemned prisoners of state. To con- 
firm this and as if to invite the victim to prepare for 
death, a sacrificial altar stood in the corner of the room 
whereon wood was laid ready to be lighted. Beside it 
bread and wine was placed as an offering and a libation 
to the Gods. Seeing this, and overcome by what had 
passed, he sank down on the stone bench that ran along 
the side of the narrow cell. While sitting thus disconso- 
late meditating on what had occurred, but more than all 
thinking of Roxana, a light flashed in his face, and look- 
ing up he beheld Hephestion’s smiling countenance. 
Springing to his feet in glad surprise Alexander cried 
out: 

‘‘You here, Hephestion? Thrice welcome! It is like 
you, when everyone seemed to have abandoned me, to 
hasten to me in my distress.” 

( 348 ) 


Alexander’s Flight from Pella 349 

Throwing himself on his knees and kissing Alexander’s 
hand, Hephestion answered, tears filling his eyes at the 
sad situation of the Prince: 

“Do not think your friends have abandoned you, but 
rather that your enemies, in their cunning, have driven 
them away, for their lives and swords are now, as in the 
past, at your disposal.” 

“Forgive me, sweet friend, ’twas a thoughtless speech,” 
Alexander quickly responded. 

“In proof of what I say, if proof be needed, they await 
you armed and mounted, at the temple of Minerva to aid 
you in your flight.” 

“My flight! Has the King changed his mind, or At- 
tains concluded it were better that I were somewhere else, 
and so connives at my escape?” 

“No, and it were idle to expect such a thing, oh Prince. 
Knowing this, your friends have thought out a way to 
effect your escape, and so I am here.” 

“My brave friend!” Alexander cried, embracing him. 
“But I cannot leave the fortress thus. It would be a 
cowardly act. No ! I will stay and face my enemies,” he 
went on in a determined voice. 

“Such right will never be granted you, oh Prince; or 
only the semblance of it, for you are condemned already.” 

“Condemned! No! No! They dare not thus strike 
me down unheard. It is not possible the King should 
sanction so cowardly an act,” Alexander concluded, but 
with less assurance, as his eyes rested on the sacrificial 
altar. 

“Your presence in the cell of the condemned is proof 
of what I say. Your enemies, aided by Cleopatra, have 


350 


Iskander 


overcome the will of the King, and a court of officers 
has been called, with Attalus at its head, to try you for 
treason/^ 

“For treason !” Alexander exclaimed, his face flushing 
with anger. 

“Yes, and before a court made up of your enemies, for 
Clitus and the others have fled to escape a like fate.” 

“The Gods be praised for that!” 

“Condemned by the court, its action will be confirmed 
by the troops; for all these belong to Attains’ corps, as 
you know, and being bound to him will lose no time in 
doing as he says.” 

“How know you all this ?” Alexander cried, amazed at 
what the other said. 

“From Demetrius, who heard what passed in 
the King’s chamber, and hastened to me to devise a way 
for your escape ere it was too late.” 

“ ’Twas a generous act,” Alexander murmured, much 
affected. 

“But of this Clitus and the others had already thought. 
For immediately you were arrested, suspecting a plot, 
they hastened to me that I, being captain of the guard, 
might devise a means for your escape. This I have done, 
sweet Prince.” 

“You! And how, good friend?” 

“ ’Twas simple enough, oh Prince, for there being 
great confusion throughout the palace I suffered some 
of my soldiers to visit the banquet hall. There, drinking 
their fill, they returned with skins of wine, of which the 
others partook, and thus all became drunk.” 

“ ’Twas a thought worthy of Clitus,” Alexander mur- 
mured admiringly. 


Alexander’s Flight from Pella 351 

“Yes, but in half an hour, nay, while we speak, the 
watch may be changed and our plans brought to naught,” 
Hephestion answered anxiously. “There is not a mo- 
ment to be lost, oh Prince, if you would effect your es- 
cape.” 

“Go on, for I can see no way, Hephestion,” Alexander 
answered, looking about him. 

“There is but one, oh Prince, and that easy enough,”^ 
Hephestion replied, pointing to the window of the cell. 
“ ’Tis high up, but we have scaled many a loftier wall in 
our youth,” he went on cheerfully. “And if the opening 
be somewhat small you may still crowd your body 
through.” 

“By the Gods ! I could squeeze my body through half 
the space if only to reward your devotion,” Alexander 
answered, looking on his friend with admiring eyes. 

“Once you have passed the opening, it will be easy to 
reach the water beneath.” 

“Yes, but how, good friend?” 

“In this way,” Hephestion answered, disclosing a stout 
cord of bull’s hide which he carried concealed beneath his 
cloak. “There,” he went on without further words, busy- 
ing himself in fastening the thong to Alexander’s belt, 
“ ’tis strong enough to hold Ossa’s weight.” 

“You have forgotten nothing,” Alexander exclaimed, 
struck with admiration at Hephestion’s loving fore- 
thought. 

“When you reach the water cut the thong and your 
weight being released I will know you are free,” Hephes- 
tion continued with anxious voice, slipping his dagger 
beneath Alexander’s belt. 


352 


Iskander 


‘‘But you, Hephestion! What will become of you?’'- 
Alexander cried, starting back. “My escape being discov- 
ered within the hour, you will be put to death ere the 
sun rise! No, good friend! I will not permit the sacri- 
fice, however willingly you make it,” he concluded, throw- 
ing himself down on the stone bench. 

“Not so, oh Prince. For once you are gone I will 
relock the cell and no one can certainly tell how you es- 
caped. Hasten, then, if you would not ruin me by de- 
lay, for the watch may be here while we talk.” Saying 
which he hastened to that part of the cell beneath the 
opening, and bending down cried out: “Come, sweet 
Prince, ’tis like the pranks for which Leonidas used to 
punish us in our youth. There ! The old trick,”, he cried 
as the Prince, hesitating no longer, sprang upon his 
shoulders. 

Thus assisted Alexander reached the ledge, and draw- 
ing himself up forced his body through the opening, cast- 
ing a look of love and devotion on his friend as 'he 
disappeared through the narrow window. Hephestion, 
presently straining beneath the tightened cord, knew that 
his master swung in mid-air high above the murky wa- 
ters. Slowly letting out the thong, hours seemed to 
pass ere it slackened, and he knew the Prince was safe. 
Hauling up the cord its sharply severed end showed that 
Alexander had descended unharmed. Offering up a si- 
lent prayer to the Gods Hephestion concealed the thong 
beneath his cloak and hastily left the cell. 

Reaching the water Alexander rested his hand on the 
base of the gloomy fortress. Looking toward the city, 
the lights from the openings of the citadel reflected on 


Alexander’s Flight from Pella 353 

the dark water like glistening stars, but about the base 
of the structure everything was hidden in inky darkness. 
Lowering himself into the water he swam toward the 
shore, keeping within the shadow of the great building. 
Reaching the open river the flaring torches about the 
entrance of the fortress cast their light across the murky 
waters, plainly revealing the objects on its surface; but 
there being no other way to reach the shore he kept 
straight on, letting his body sink beneath the glistening 
mirror. Thus he made his way to land and climbing the 
steep bank lost no time in hastening to the sacred temple 
of Minerva as Hephestion had said. Seeing him approach 
running at full speed Clitus cried in a voice he vainly 
sought to subdue: 

’Tis the Prince, comrades, beard of Cyclops, and un- 
harmed.” 

Approaching the group Alexander held out his hands 
in love and grateful thanks. At this each man, holding 
fast his bridle rein, dropped upon his knees and grasping 
the Prince’s outstretched hands pressed them to their lips. 
Lifting them up he embraced them in turn, and coming 
last to Clitus, that doughty warrior releasing him from 
his mighty grasp, cried out: 

^‘Here is your armor, oh Prince, and here your horse,” 
he added presently revealing Alexander’s mighty steed. 

Delighted beyond measure at this last evidence of his 
friends’ love, Alexander donned his armor and losing no 
time sprang upon the back of his gallant steed. The oth- 
ers hastening to do the same, the cavalcade at once set 
out, and it being now near the hour of midnight and the 
streets deserted they gained the northern extremity of the 


354 


Iskander 


city without adventure of any kind. At this point a nar- 
row causeway intervened traversing the great swamp as 
it does today, connecting the capital with the open 
plain. At the further extremity of the raised road a gar- 
rison was stationed for the better protection of the city, 
commanded by Harpalus, the King’s lieutenant. Alexan- 
der, leading the way, the little body of horsemen entered 
the narrow causeway at a gallop, Clitus crying out with 
exultant voice : 

“Harpalus will not molest us if we but drop an obol 
in his wide palm, unless he thinks more can be gained 
by dallying,” referring to that officer’s well-known love of 
money. 

Scarce, however, had he ceased speaking than a flam- 
ing signal flashed from the summit of the great fortress, 
and after it another and then another. Seeing this 
Ptolemy cried out disconsolately: 

“Your escape has been discovered, oh Prince, and all 
too soon.” 

“ ’Tis the King’s signal, warning his soldiers to cap- 
ture, dead or alive, any who may be abroad without li- 
cense,” Antigonus, the veteran, interposed as the light 
flashed forth anew in the now darkened sky. “ ’Twas a 
thing often seen in the early days of Philip’s reign, and 
boded no good to those who fled,” he went on reflect^ 
ively. 

To these comments Alexander made no response save 
to draw his sword and urge his horse to greater effort. 
As they thus neared the guard at topmost speed they 
were met with the shrill cry : 

“Halt! In the King’s name!” 


Alexander's Flight from Pella 355 

To this Alexander’s only answer was a savage cry to 
charge, and in a moment the little band of spurring horse- 
men shot out of the darkness into the glare of the flaring 
torches. Trampling under foot or striking down with 
flat of sword the bewildered soldiers who obstructed the 
way, the Prince and his companions gained the open 
plain beyond. Wheeling his horse about, Alexander cried 
to Harpalus, who stood leaning on his spear beside the 
road : 

'Tn your report to the King, Harpalus, say that his son 
commended your defense. Against other than Macedo- 
nians it might have been effective. Tell him that Alex- 
ander, free, asks nothing at his hands. When the throne 
is vacant,” he went on, ‘T will return to fill it. Until 
then I will not disturb the peace of the kingdom by in- 
ternal war. Except, and mark you the exception well, 
Harpalus, except the Princess Roxana be harmed or the 
King put my followers to death. If he do either I will 
gather the barbarians of the North and West, and return- 
ing, put to death all who have insulted my mother or 
sought to destroy her son. Farewell!” And wheeling 
the Prince and his companions disappeared in the dark- 
ness of the night. 

Turning abruptly to the left and circling the great 
swamp, Alexander and his companions kept on at head- 
long speed. Reaching the river below the city, Clitus 
and those with him understood at last the object of this 
strange detour. For Alexander, no longer regarding his 
enemies or the signals that continued to flash from the 
great fortress, thought only of Roxana and the cry of 
anguish that would burst her heart were he not the first 


356 


Iskander 


to tell her of the misfortune that overwhelmed him. Ap- 
proaching the shore opposite Parcledes’ hut, he bade his 
companions await his return, and plunging his horse into 
the dark waters gained the opposite shore. Giving his 
horse to Ossa, who had challenged him with uplifted 
spear ere he reached the bank, he hastened, with barely 
a word of explanation, to the now silent hut. Striking 
the door a slave opened it, revealing Roxana sitting alone 
and disconsolate in the middle of the great room. Be- 
holding him she uttered a cry of joy and then of fear, 
exclaiming as she clasped him in her arms : 

‘^You here, Iskander, and in armor?’' 

*‘Yes, my sweet, and without harm of any kind, as you 
may see, save the wetting,” he answered, caressing her. 

‘‘Why the wetting, love, when the highway is open to 
you ?” she queried, scanning his face with troubled coun- 
tenance. 

“That I might the sooner clasp you in my arms, my 
child,” he answered, pressing a kiss on her upturned face. 

“That is not all, Iskander. There is some mystery 
back of it that you are hiding from me,” she exclaimed 
with troubled voice. 

“Only such mystery as you may readily guess from 
the day’s happenings at Pella.” 

“Oh, Iskander! You are flying, and for your life,” 
she cried, trembling. 

“If that be so, and I save my life, what else matters, 
Roxana? For one may overcome every misfortune save 
death,” he answered, closing her mouth with a kiss. “It 
is the fate of Princes, as you know,” he went on with 


Alexander’s Flight from Pella 857 

cheerful voice, striving to quiet her, ^‘to live secure today 
and fly for their lives tomorrow.” 

“Oh, Iskander!” 

“Let not the prospect dishearten you, Roxana. You 
who have so courageous a heart; who fear naught more 
than men. If I fly it is but for a day. Nor do I go un- 
friended, for beyond the river Clitus and others like him 
await me. With them there is no danger, love, that may 
not befall men in the common risks of war.” 

“It is as I feared,” she replied, little reassured. “But 
what dreadful thing has happened at the palace to cause 
you to fly so suddenly?” 

“Nothing that yc\u did not clearly foresee, sweet love. 
The King, surrounded by his enemies and mine, yet lis- 
tens to their lies. At last, being wrought up to a pitch 
of fury, when only half accountable for his acts, he or- 
dered my imprisonment and trial for treason.” 

“For treason!” she cried in terror. “You accused of 
treason, Iskander? You, the soul of loyalty and honor?” 
she went on, horrified at the foul charge. 

“Yes, but happily my friends coming to my aid, I am 
free and armed, as you see, and being so may laugh at my 
enemies.” 

“Free! when you must fly the country, an unhappy 
wanderer, a price on your head and ever finding an enemy 
where you thought to greet a friend,” she exclaimed with 
a shudder, remembering the fate of Persia’s princes when 
thus bereft of friends. 

“Nay, put not so bad a face upon it, Roxana,” he an- 
swered with cheerful confidence, kissing her tear-stained 


358 


Iskander 


face. “In Epirus and Illyria I have friends, and may 
there await in safety the return of happier days. Till 
then, sweet love, we must steel our hearts to abide the 
fortunes of the hour with such patience as we can.” 

“Oh, Iskander, I cannot part from you thus, I cannot,” 
she cried in despair. “You have filled this far-off coun- 
try with friendship and love, and away, I shall suffer the 
sorrows of a double exile.” 

“It will not be for long, for the King is both great and 
magnanimous, and will not credit the stories he has been 
told when his mind clears. ’Tis too monstrous to be- 
lieve.” 

“No, no ! Those about him will add lie on lie until you 
are forever ruined,” she answered despairingly. 

“Those who now menace me will, I being away, con- 
trive against the King, and so I shall soon return either to 
succor or succeed him,” he answered with a sad smile. 
’Till that day we must wait. With change of fortune I 
will come back to claim you, or if you be no longer here, 
wherever you may be I will seek you out.” 

“But I will have returned ere then to my own country, 
Iskander, and you know not its customs in respect to such 
as I,” she answered, tears flooding her eyes. “For such 
stress will be laid upon me by the great King that I shall 
be compelled, whether or no, to do as he commands.” 

“To become the wife of one that he will choose for 
you,” Alexander answered, his brow darkening with vex- 
ation and anger. 

“Yes, for being unwedded I shall have no choice,” she 
answered sorrowfully. 


Alexander’s Flight from Pella 359 

“Then I will make you my wife now and here, ere I 
leave you,” he exclaimed after a moment, captivated by 
the thought. 

“Your wife!” 

“Yes, according to the sacred rites of my country.” 

“The great King will little regard such rites, Iskander, 
thinking them barbarous and nowise binding upon him 
or m^.” 

“Then we will wed according to the Persian rites as 
well, my love. Thus you will be bound to me by ties held 
sacred both by your countrymen and mine.” 

To this she made no other answer than to clasp him 
about the neck with the cry “I love you, I love you, 
Iskander !” 

“A loaf of bread and a goblet of wine,” he continued, 
deeply affected, responding to her soft caress, “is all we 
need to seal the union according to our simple rites. Then, 
however widely separated, we shall still be united.” And 
turning from her he called a slave and bade her fetch him 
bread and wine. 

While awaiting this Parcledes and her daughter enter- 
ing the room Alexander saluted them with a kiss, ex- 
claiming : 

“You come in good time, sweet cousins, to see us wed. 
For now and here, according to our ancient rites, I shall 
take Roxana to be my wife.” 

Hearing this the Princess and her daughter looked up 
astonished, but being accustomed to the arbitrary will of 
Kings they made no comment save to bow their heads. 

“Come, Roxana,” he went on, leading her to the altar, 
which according to the customs of ancient Greece occu- 


360 


Iskander 


pied a place in the great room. There, kneeling down and 
taking his sword, he severed the loaf of bread which the 
slave had brought, giving half to Roxana and retaining 
the other half himself. Pouring wine on the se\^ered 
parts as a libation, each partook of that which they held, 
and doing so became husband and wife according to the 
Macedonian form of approbation and union. 

^‘Now we are one, my love, and nothing can part us 
save death,” Alexander exclaimed, clasping her in his 
arms and covering her face with kisses. 

‘‘But I am only half your wife,” she answered, smiling 
through her tears, “until we are wed according to the 
Persian rites.” 

“And what are they?” he cried, impatiently. “Tell me 
that we may be wholly bound to each other.” 

“I have but to kiss you and you to return it, and by 
that simple ceremony we are wed,” she answered, her face 
suffused with blushes. Then pulling him down to her 
she kissed him on the mQUth; and he returning it they 
became man and wife according to the sacred rites of 
Persia. 

“ ’Tis a ceremony devised by lovers,” Alexander ex- 
claimed enraptured, pressing her face to his. “Now you 
are doubly and wholly mine, and naught can part us.” 

Thus they stood for many minutes, neither speaking, 
their hearts throbbing with the sweet ecstasy of love. At 
last, releasing her, he took her hand and turning to Par- 
cledes and her daughter exclaimed : 

“Thus you have witnessed our double marriage, sweet 
cousins. If I live you shall verify it if need be; or should 
I die,” he went on with sober voice, “then the more need 


Alexander’s Flight from Pella 361 

that she, being my wife, shall receive the protection it 
accords her, both here and in her own land.” 

In this way they were wed, and bread and wine being 
brought, the little group sat down to the simple repast 
as if it were the wedding banquet of an emperor, as in- 
deed it proved tO’ be. Thus an hour passed when Ossa, 
suddenly throwing wide the door, cried out : 

“The soldiers of the King approach the house from 
every side, oh Prince; in a moment they will be here and 
your presence discovered. There is no time to lose,” he 
went on as Alexander sat still, his face flushed with an- 
ger, “if you would not bring misfortune on the Princess 
and those she shelters beneath her roof.” 

Hearing this Alexander sprang to his feet and instantly 
all was confusion. But Roxana, who a moment before 
shrank with terror, now thinking only of the safety of 
her beloved, grasped his arm and partly leading and partly 
dragging him reached the open door. 

“It is you they seek, and I, by keeping you, will have 
caused your death,” she cried, urging him forward. “But 
where is his horse. Ossa?” she asked impatiently, peering 
about her in the darkness. 

“In Clitus’ charge beyond the river, sweet Princess. 
I thought it the better way if it should happen, as it has, 
that we were taken by surprise. Now a moment only is 
needed for him to cross in the boat which lies fastened 
to the shore.” 

Reaching the river bank, Roxana threw her arms about 
the neck of Alexander convulsed with grief. Thus they 
stood without speaking, he holding her close in his arms, 
his face pressed against hers. Nor had he thought of re- 


362 


I s kand er 


leasing her until hearing the near approach of the King’s 
soldiers she pushed him from her, crying as she kissed 
him on both his cheeks : 

“My love, my husband; fly, fly, ere it is too late!” 

But Alexander, grasping her again in his arms, cried 
out in grief and rage : 

“I will not leave you, Roxana, but stay and abide my 
fate. Anything were better than' leaving you thus.” 

“You shall not, Iskander! ’Twould be but for a mo- 
ment and I should die if aught befell you. Fly, fly then, 
if you love me!” and kissing him again she turned and 
ran to the hut, closing and bolting the door. Here, 
strength and courage both failing her, she uttered a cry 
of despair as she fell insensible in Parcledes’ outstretched 
arms. 

Alexander, watching her vanishing form, his heart torn 
with grief and rage, would have followed, but Ossa, 
grasping him in his gigantic arms, lifted him into the 
boat, pushing it far into the stream. Crossing to the op- 
posite shore without adventure he called to Clitus, and 
that sturdy soldier, taking the Prince, put him astride his 
horse. Now all his friends gathering about him with sor- 
rowing hearts they turned their horses’ heads to the West 
and in a moment were lost to sight. 

All night they rode, Alexander making no sign but 
sitting his horse as if dead or asleep. His companions 
close about him said little, but watched with anxious eyes, 
the flaming signals that flared the night through from 
plain and mountain side. When morning dawned the little 
troop found themselves amid the forest-covered foothills 
that bordered the mountains to the west of Pella. Clitus 


Alexander’s Flight from Pella 363 

awakening to life with the day, gave a cry of joy at sight 
of the green trees and towering mountains. But pres- 
ently Eumenes, raising his hand pointed through an open- 
ing in the forest to a troop of Thracian mercenaries occu- 
pying the mountain pass in their front. 

‘‘See! We are too late. The King’s troops already oc- 
cupy the pass,” he exclaimed, under his breath, as if the 
trees had ears. 

Hearing him, Alexander roused himself and reining in 
his horse sat still observing the movements of their ene- 
mies. 

“Is there no other pass?” he exclaimed at last, his eyes 
flaming at sight of the soldiers who obstructed their path. 
“These mountains are an open book to you, Clitus,” he 
went on without taking his eyes off the King’s troops. 

“There is no other, oh Prince, except to the far south 
and that at Edessa to the north. This before us is but a 
bridle path and scarce known save by the shepherds. In 
the wars it is never thought worth while to guard it, and 
so we believed it would be open now,” he answered with 
angry impatience. 

“The King pays us a compliment then in this new dis- 
position,” Alexander answered absently as he sat un- 
moved, scrutinizing the pass and the nature of the inter- 
vening ground. Thus he continued for a long time, say- 
ing nothing. At last, gathering up his reins, he cried : 

“Come with me, Clitus. We lose rather than gain by 
waiting. You, my brave friends,” he went on, turning 
to the others, “remain under cover, until you hear the 
cry to charge,” and putting spurs to his horse, followed 
by Clitus, he galloped into the narrow plain that lay be- 


364 


Iskander 


tween them and the ascending pass. Concealing their 
arms they rode forward in seeming ignorance of danger, 
or thought of it. Thus they traversed half the width of 
the valley, when Alexander, suddenly throwing his horse 
back on his haunches, pointed out the Thracian soldiers 
to Clitus as if seeing them now for the first time. Wait- 
ing a moment as if to determine their number, Alexander 
and his companion turned about and slowly made their 
way toward the forest. Seeing they were discovered the 
Thracian soldiers charged down the side of the moun- 
tain at headlong speed amid the blare of trumpet 
and cries of triumph. Alexander and Clitus, now 
increasing their speed as if intent upon escaping, 
quickly reached the cover of the woods where 
their companions were concealed. Here they waited 
until the Thracian troop neared the forest in wild 
disorder, thinking but lightly of their enemy. Seeing 
this, Alexander raised his sword, and without cry or noise 
of any kind, the little band emerged from the forest at 
full speed. Surprised at their number and close array, 
the King’s officers sought to form their troops in com- 
pact column, but Alexander leading the way, the little 
band struck the disorganized soldiers like a thunder-bolt. 
Breaking through the widely scattered line, they stopped 
not, but increasing the speed of their horses, lost no time 
in gaining the pass from which the Thracian troop had 
just emerged. Here, turning about, they formed anew 
to receive their enemies, who, filled with anger and shame 
at the trick played upon them, lost no time in attempting 
to regain the pass. Waiting until the King’s soldiers en- 
tered the mouth of the narrow gap, the Prince gave the 


Alexander’s Flight from Pella 365 

signal to charge. Now, having every advantage, the 
horsemen leading the Thracian column, unable to with- 
stand the fiery onslaught, turned and fled; and these dis- 
organizing those who followed, the whole troop were in 
a moment in tumultuous flight. Pursuing them to the 
edge of the valley, Alexander called a halt, and, turning 
about, the little band slowly reascended the pass. 

Reaching the camp of their enemies they dismounted 
and picketed and fed their worn horses. Then offering 
a sacrifice and libation to the Gods for their escape from 
death, they sat down in joyful contentment to the steam- 
ing breakfast that the Thracian soldiers had left un- 
tasted in their camp. Thus ended the events of the day 
and night that followed the return of the forceful King 
to Pella; events that historians have commented upon 
with never failing interest from that day to the present 
time. 


CHAPTER XXVII. 

THE PRAYER TO JUPITER. 

Worn out with fatigue and the sorrowful events of the 
preceding day and night, Alexander and his companions 
rested until midday beside the stream that marked the 
narrow pass. Then, refreshed, they began the ascent of 
the cold and rugged heights that towered above their 
heads. Making little progress, they camped for the night 
midway on the mountain side amid a sheltered grove of 
pines. Here they lighted fires to warm their chilled bod- 
ies and as a protection for their horses against the sav- 
age animals that had their haunts amid these remote soli- 
tudes. Partaking of a hearty supper from the abundant 
spoils of the Thracian camp, they gathered boughs for 
beds, and throwing themselves down on the fragrant 
stems were soon lost in sleep. Arising at dawn, rested 
and refreshed, they continued the ascent of the lofty 
mountain, Clitus leading the way with song and story, 
happy at being once more amid his native wilds. Reach- 
ing the summit, the wild scenery of the Haliacmon and 
its myriad tributaries, lay spread out before them in all 
its varied splendor. Descending the mountain side, they 
found the country beyond wild and rugged in the ex- 
treme. Traversed by swift running streams, fed by 
springs and mountain snows, no path penetrated the 
gloomy forests and lonely glens. Emerging from these 
worn and somewhat disheartened they sought a way in 
the beds of shallow streams or along the edge of sombre 


367 


The Prayer to Jupiter 

canons and towering precipices. At last, as they ap- 
proached the Haliacmon, its presence was long heralded 
by the thunder of its cataracts and the deep mists that 
rose from its foaming waters. Crossing at a lonely ford 
to which Clitus guided them, they reached at the close 
of the third day the upper stretches of the Cambunian 
mountains. Making their way to the summit they beheld 
before them Pindus’ lofty heights. These surmounted 
with laborious effort, they looked back with thankful 
hearts over the woodlands and mountains they had trav- 
ersed to the far-off fertile plains of Thessaly. Turning 
again to the West, and in chilling contrast, the bare and 
rugged country of Epirus lay before them in all its naked- 
ness. Straining their eyes naught met their view save 
tumbled masses of mountains and gloomy valleys, where- 
in sluggish streams festered in stagnant marshes or were 
lost in dark and impenetrable canons. But here, how- 
ever uninviting the prospect, safety lay ; for this was the 
land they sought, the country ruled over by Alexander's 
uncle, the Epirot King after whom he was named. 

Weary and chilled with the cold and biting winds, the 
little troop hurried on, seeking shelter for the night in a 
cave beneath a granite cliff. Resuming their journey 
early the succeeding morning, afternoon found them look- 
ing down with delighted hearts upon the ancient and 
sacred shrine of Dodona. To the right, as they gazed 
with eager eyes, lake Pambotis sparkled and glimmered 
in the declining sun, reflecting in its beauty the theme of 
poet and minstrel for unnumbered ages of Grecian life. 
To the left there rose a mountain of barren rock, but 
nearer by, as if in contrast, groves of venerable oaks ap- 


368 Iskander 

peared, interspersed with sequestered dales and open 
meadows. 

At the base of the forbidding height, and clinging to 
its barren side, Alexander beheld with beating heart the 
shrine of Zeus. Clustered about the sanctuary, as lesser 
heights crowd about a central dome, other and smaller 
edifices stood revealed to him. Picturing it as he had 
been told, he saw the grove of sacred oaks, the prophetic 
tree of Jupiter, and beside it the mysterious spring of 
purling water encircling about the blazened statue of 
Dione. Scanning the sacred spot with eager interest, 
Seleucus, who had visited the shrine, pointed out the 
protecting citadel, and beyond the stately structure where- 
in the games in Zeus’ honor were celebrated. At one 
side the treasury of the mighty God stood revealed and 
a step away the sacred place of offerings beside the ven- 
erable temple of Aphrodite. Not a thing escaped the 
eager Prince as he stood motionless surveying the tran- 
quil scene. Here he remembered the Gods of ancient 
Greece first found a sanctuary; here was the birthplace 
of Grecian belief; here it was that Zeus, the Supreme 
Deity, first made known his will to men. 

As the little group stood thus watching and comment- 
ing on the interesting picture a storm springing up in 
the mountains, accompanied by lightning and rolling 
thunder, gave such reality to the scene that all, with one 
accord, springing from their horses, fell upon their knees 
in prayer and supplication. Rising to their feet, they 
feasted their eyes anew on the sacred spot, hallowed by the 
presence of Jupiter and the remembrance of unnumbered 
ages of suppliants who had worshipped at his shrine. 


369 


The Prayer to Jupiter 

Pursuing their way, they reached at last the imposing 
entrance to the sacred inclosure. Here, on their knees, 
with bowed heads, they deposited, with barefooted and 
austere priests, such offerings as they had. Of these Alex^ 
ander had naught save the chain about his neck and the 
embossed battle shield he bore upon his arm. These he 
gave with prayers and fervent sighs that he had naught 
else to offer. 

‘The gift of the heart and belief in the Gods make 
whatever token be offered acceptable to Zeus,” the ancient 
priest answered, bending in low obeisance to the sacred 
temple standing half hidden amid the wide spreading 
oaks. 

“My people for a thousand years have given their 
hearts and of their treasures to Zeus, and so they will 
continue to do as long as time lasts,” Alexander reverently 
answered. 

“Whence come ye?” the priest inquired, but without 
animation, as if individuals, however many or great, were 
as naught in the presence of the mighty God. 

“We come as suppliants, fugitives from an implacable 
enemy,” Alexander answered simply. 

“All find welcome and protection here, the suppliant 
more than the others, if distinction there be,” the ancient 
priest answered solemnly. “But who are ye, if you care 
to make yourself known; though it matters not if you 
desire otherwise.” 

“We have no cause longer to hide our names or lineage, 
thanks to the protecting care of Zeus, and so I may tell 
you I am Alexander, the son of Olympias of the house of 


370 


I skander 


Epirus, whose kings have reigned over this ancient coun- 
try for a thousand years,'’ he answered with bowed head. 

‘‘So I thought, for your color and voice and hair are 
Olympias’ and your high features bear her lineaments, 
ere she left the solitudes of these Epirot mountains and 
valleys to dwell amid the swine of Philip’s court,” he 
continued with angry vehemence. “In her youth, know 
thou, and it is a thing for you to treasure, she was of such 
supreme beauty and majesty that the Great God was 
thought to have watched over her birth.” 

“She is not less beautiful nor less majestic now, oh 
priest, and in her deep distress has greater need than in 
her youth for Zeus’ love and protecting care,” Alexander 
answered, sadly thinking of his mother, a wanderer on 
the face of the earth. 

“He loses not interest with passing years in those 
whom he has treasured; and Olympias has, as in her 
youth, his love and protecting care. But is there aught 
else you crave,” he went on, scanning Ale:^ander more 
closely. “If so, the God will listen with patience to your 
prayer.” 

“Yes, good priest, but I would delay it if I might until 
the morrow, when I may present myself in more fit at- 
tire,” Alexander answered, excusing himself. 

“Such things you will find, and all else beside, in yon- 
der protecting citadel,” the priest replied, and lifting his 
hands the aged guardian of the gate turned and slowly 
made his way toward the sacred temple. 

Remounting their horses the little party soon reached 
the lofty citadel, which opened wide its gates at their ap- 
proach, Offering up a sacrifice for their deliverance, food 


371 


The Prayer to Jupiter 

and wine were provided them by the aged attendants, 
after which each sought the couch assigned him for the 
night. 

On the morrow, rising with the dawn, they sought the 
secluded lake, and having bathed, donned the white robes 
given them at the castle. Thus arrayed and their feet en- 
cased in sandals of untanned leather, they sought the 
sacred temple of Zeus. 

Conducted to the presence of the venerable Selli or 
high priest, Alexander transcribed on the leaden plate 
that was given him the preferment he wished to make. 
And thinking always of Roxana, and not at all of his own 
fortunes or their outcome, this was his simple prayer : 

‘Thou, oh Zeus, the divine God, say if thou wilt smile 
upon my love, bringing it at last to a happy issue.” 

Presenting this on bended knees to the high priest, the 
latter caused it to be borne to the Peleidades or sacred 
priestesses who stood in sombre stillness, half revealed, 
within the entrance to the lofty temple. 

“The man who named these ancient women with their 
uncombed hair and disheveled dress ‘doves’ must have 
been blind or crazed,” Clitus whispered to his companion, 
referring to an ancient custom of calling the Dodonian 
priestesses “doves.” “These lean and shriveled priests 
too! Bah! Do they never bathe?” he went on, pointing 
to the venerable prophets, whose ascetic vows forbade 
them to wear shoes or wash their feet. 

“Silence, Clitus! Dare you scoff in the very presence 
of the Gods?” Alexander exclaimed in an angry voice. 
To this Clitus made no reply save to raise his hand in 
vexation that what he had said should have been over- 
heard by his master. 


372 


Iskander 


“Return, my son, on the morrow,” the high priest at 
last exclaimed, “when the divine priestess has listened to 
the sounding timbrels of hanging bronze and meditated 
on their mysterious import; then, when she shall have 
tasted of the miraculous waters of tlie sacred spring, 
Zeus, whispering from amid the rustling oaks, will make 
known his answer.” 

Taking their departure the little party sought the cita- 
del, returning the following morning as had been ap- 
pointed. Reaching the sacred enclosure they waited be- 
neath the murmuring oaks for the high priest to make 
known the answer of the divine oracle. Nor was it long 
ere he made his appearance, for presently emerging from 
the temple surrounded by priestly attendants he ap- 
proached bearing a golden salver, studded with jewels. 
Upon this the sacred script containing the answer of Zeus 
lay exposed. Kneeling, Alexander received it, bending 
low over the priceless treasure. At last summoning cour- 
age he raised it to his eyes and this is what he read : 

“Despair not of thy love, oh Prince, until twice a King 
it shall still be denied thee.” 

Upon perusing the Delphic utterance Alexander was 
much cast down and remained long upon his knees, pon- 
dering on what he read. At last lifting up his head he 
thanked the priest, and promising the oracle some fit 
offering when fortune smiled upon him, he arose and 
slowly withdrew from the sacred grove. Long he re- 
mained silent, filled with sad thoughts and melancholy 
forebodings, but at last, divulging the answer to his com- 
panions, they could make nothing of it more than he. 
Reflecting upon it over night Seleucus, who was much 


373 


The Prayer to Jupiter 

versed in such things, having once thought to be a priest, 
came to the Prince at break of day, crying : 

have the riddle, oh Prince, and ’tis as plain as a 
goose’s egg. Thus when Persia is won, as will surely hap- 
pen, you will after Philip, or mayhap before, reign over 
it in place of Darius. Then being already King of Mace- 
donia, you will be twice a king, and so till then you need 
not despair of your love,” he concluded with a smiling 
countenance. 

‘Ts it with such foolish thoughts that you would seek 
to comfort me, Seleucus?” Alexander asked with a sad 
smile, averting his face. 

‘‘Nay, ’tis good sense, oh Prince,” Clitus interposed, 
accepting what the other said in simple faith. “For you 
shall be King of Macedonia in good time and afterwards 
King of Persia, as we have so often talked in idle fancy.” 

“We will make our way like men, Clitus, whatever fate 
befall us,” the Prince answered, smiling upon his faith- 
ful friend, “but does our present flight look as if I should 
be twice a king, or indeed a king at all, this twenty years? 
Disowned and hunted by all Greece, as I shall be ere a 
month passes, I am more like to die ere the moon changes 
than to be twice crowned as Seleucus says.” 

“Lose not heart, oh Prince, over much thinking of 
your love,” Clitus cried in response. “For by the beard 
of Cyclops we will in good time carve a two-fold crown 
for you with our naked swords, if the sweet Roxana, the 
Gods bless her, be content with nothing less.” 

Smiling his love in response Alexander made no other 
reply. And now having nothing further to detain them 
at Dodona the little party returned to the citadel and 
donning their armor resumed their journey. 


CHAPTER XXVIIL 


GLAUCUS, THE BARBARIAN. 

1 Alexander, little comforted, now directed his steps to 
Passaron, the ancient capital of Epirus, where for a thou- 
sand years the Molossian Kings had received their crowns. 
Reaching the ancient castle that topped the heights above 
the town, he found the King had transferred his court to 
the seashore, as was his yearly habit. Leaving Passaron, 
a day’s easy journey brought them in sight of the Ionian 
Sea. Here, looking down from the lofty heights, they 
traced at their feet the wild and foaming Acheron, as it 
descended the steep incline in a torrent of mist and spray 
to the placid sea. Near its mouth, amid a verdant plain, 
wooded by stately trees and sloping to the spacious har- 
bor, they beheld with delighted hearts the castle of the 
Molossian King. 

Some news of Alexander’s approach having reached 
the monarch, he mounted a horse and set off with his 
courtiers to receive the Prince, welcoming him with every 
show of hospitality and love. But afterwards, on learning 
the particulars of Alexander’s flight from Pella and 
Olympias’ exile, his manner became far less cordial. No- 
ticing this Alexander sought him out, and, asking an ex- 
planation of the change, the Epirot King answered after 
some hesitation : 

“I need not tell you, Alexander, that you are welcome 

at my court. The exiled and suppliant prince ever claims 
(m) 


Glaucus, the Barbarian 


375 


the protection and hospitality of kings. You, being of 
my house and treasured in my heart, are thrice welcome. 
But what of Philip, your father, Alexander? Hasty of 
temper, impatient of opposition and setting no limit to 
his animosities, once they are aroused, what may we not 
expect of him?” he went on with troubled voice. ‘‘Learn- 
ing of your presence here and urged on by your enemies, 
will he long respect the neutrality of my poor country? 
And the new Queen and Attains? Think you they can 
sleep soundly in their beds so long as you hover like an 
eagle on the edge of Macedonia ? Thus, oh Prince, I will 
in the end become involved in a hazardous conflict with 
the mighty King unless I deliver you into his hands, 
which last you know I will never do.” 

Unwilling to involve the friendly monarch in so griev- 
ous a war, Alexander, embracing and thanking him, an- 
swered : 

“The sacrifice would be unavailing, oh King, for unable 
to stay the Macedonian forces your country would be 
quickly overrun and conquered. To save you this ca- 
lamity, I and my companions will lose no time in seeking 
a refuge elsewhere.” And that there might be some good 
excuse for his going, he everywhere proclaimed his deter- 
mination to set out at once to meet and welcome his moth- 
er’s return to Epirus. 

The King giving his consent and providing him with 
a stout ship the Prince and his companions lost no time 
in doing as he said. Keeping near the land their hearts 
were gladdened on the second day by the approach of a 
stately galley bearing aloft a crimson sail. Recognizing 
the Queen’s vessel, they raised a shout, and as the ship 


376 


Iskander 


came swiftly on the Prince beheld his mother standing 
motionless on the uplifted platform. Suspecting Alexan- 
der’s vessel to be an Illyrian pirate, great numbers of 
which infested the Ionian Sea, the Queen stood watch- 
ing its approach with anxiety not unmixed with fear. 
About her in their allotted places her Molossian guards 
stood armed, prepared to welcome the oncoming vessel as 
a friend, or repel it as an enemy. 

As the great Queen’s form came clearly into view its 
majesty and commanding stature struck those who gazed 
upon her from Alexander’s ship with something akin to 
awe. Her light blue ^es, hardened by many sorrows, 
had in their depths at this period of her life no tint of 
mellowness except as they reflected the image of her be- 
loved son. Above her yellow hair, in which no sign of 
age appeared, there flared a crimson hat with pointed 
peak, from which floated a stately plume. This increas- 
ing her commanding height added to the supreme majesty 
of her mien. Clad in a long flowing dress of purple vel- 
vet embroidered with silver, the queenly garment dis- 
played her full and voluptuous figure in all its graceful 
outlines. Over her dress and adding to its splendor she 
wore a cloak of pink bordered with stripes of green. 
Strands of heavy gold beads and strings of pearls en- 
veloped her throat, while massive bracelets of gold en- 
circled her arms, showing in their richness and profusion 
her love of barbaric splendor. In further ornamentation 
massive girdles of jointed gold inlaid with precious stones 
glistened about the waist of the great Queen. Harmon- 
izing with this and in supplement thereto similar girdles 


Glaucus, the Barbarian 


377 


were clasped about her ankles above the Theban shoes of 
snow white leather that encased her feet. 

Holding out their hands Alexander and those about 
him raised a shout of joy and welcome. At this the 
Queen, recognizing the Prince and those about him, stood 
motionless and silent, seemingly overcome by wonder and 
astonishment. This presently giving way to a deeper 
feeling, she reached out her arms to her son, her face re- 
vealing the mingled emotions that stirred her heart. Di- 
vining her thoughts and deeply affected, Alexander cried 
out: 

“Hail, Queen of Macedonia! Your son and those you 
love, come in health to greet and welcome you.” 

Hearing his voice and divining all that had befallen 
him, she sank down overcome by her emotions on the 
bench beside which she stood. The ships now drawing 
together Alexander hastened to her side, and falling down 
embraced her knees, as he might have done in childhood. 
Drawing him to her, unable to speak, she clasped him 
in her arms, wetting his face with her tears. Thus she 
held him until regaining her composure in some measure 
she seated him by her side and questioned him as to the 
cause of his presence there. To all she asked he answered 
with such loving reservations as he thought would lighten 
the blow to her pride and heart. When in this way she 
had been informed of all that had occurred she com- 
mended what he had done and not less his having wed his 
love the Princess Roxana. After this the Queen, send- 
ing for Alexander's companions, gave her hand to 
each in token of her love and grateful thanks. Now, 
there being no longer reason for further delay, the ships 


378 


Iskander 


spread their sails anew, steering for the Epirot coast 
from whence Alexander had departed. On nearing their 
destination they were met by the King’s barge, sent in 
welcome of the Queen, but more directly to warn Alex- 
ander of the new danger that threatened him in Epirus. 
For while he had been away the emissaries of Attains had 
arrived, Philip being ill, demanding that Alexander be 
given up to them or expelled the country, threatening im- 
mediate war if their request were denied. In the King’s 
barge also came Hephestion, who had been exiled because 
of his connivance at Alexander’s escape. Clasping him 
in his arms Alexander kissed him, exclaiming : 

“Naught in the world, oh friend, could have so glad- 
dened my heart. It is as if you had returned from the 
dead,” he cried, thinking of the danger the other had 
braved in aiding his escape. 

“ ’Twas not so bad as that, oh Prince, for nothing was 
proven against me, and the King, good-natured, sought 
not to question me too closely, exclaiming at last as he 
pinched my chin, ‘The air about Pella is not suited to ad- 
venturous youths or those whose wounds are unhealed, 
Hephestion. The seashore were a better place for such 
invalids.’ Saying which he dismissed me with a smile, 
and I, mounting a horse, set out, as you see.” 

“Tell me,” Alexander exclaimed, again embracing him, 
and commending his discretion, “tell me something of my 
sweet love, Roxana. Is she well and bears she up bravely 
under her afflictions?’ 

“I did not see her, oh Prince, but Demetrius, who has- 
tened to Parcledes’ hut after your departure, told me she 
was distraught with grief over the dangers that threat- 


Glaucus, the Barbarian 379 

ened you. Holding close his hand she would listen to 
no other name but yours, seeming to live and breathe only 
in the thought of you.” 

‘‘My sweet love,” Alexander exclaimed, unable to say 
more. 

“When the news was signaled of your arrival in Epi- 
rus, Demetrius hastened to her again to comfort her and 
inform her of your escape.” 

“Gallant and loving heart, how much I owe him,” 
Alexander answered with deep emotion. 

While Alexander was thus occupied, his heart agitated 
with contending emotions, Clitus, ever intent upon his 
master’s affairs, busied himself questioning the King’s 
messenger. From him. he learned that the Epirot King 
was greatly agitated over Attains’ demand, and while hav- 
ing no thought of delivering Alexander up yet sought 
a way out of the difficulty without giving offense to his 
powerful neighbor. It was in pursuance of this that he 
dispatched the messenger as if to welcome his sister, 
Olympias, but in fact to advise Alexander of his distress- 
ful situation. 

“Well,” exclaimed Clitus when all this had been ex- 
plained to him, “what does the King advise?” 

“He does not venture to advise, good friend,” the other 
answered with reserv^e, “but suggests that Illyria, being 
remote and its King always at odds with Philip and ever 
ready to welcome and protect those who fly from Pella,' 
it would seem to offer Alexander a safer refuge than 
Epirus, at Philip’s very door.” 

“Go on,” Clitus exclaimed sternly, as the other hesi- 
tated. 


380 


Iskander 


“Believing Alexander would agree with him in this he 
has dispatched a courier to the Illyrian King advising him 
of Alexander’s probable arrival.” 

“Then it is all fixed,” Clitus exclaimed with little show 
of politeness, turning on his heel. 

Seeking Alexander, he told him what he had heard, 
and the latter, losing no time, hastened to divulge it to the 
Queen. Swayed by many contending emotions, they were 
long in determining what course to follow, but seeing no 
other way than that proposed by the Molossian King, they 
finally acquiesced in its necessity. Taking leave of his 
mother amidst the tears of each, Alexander returned to 
his ship with his companions and hoisting sail steered his 
course for Illyria.* 

Reaching that country without incident, the King re- 
ceived them with expressions of friendship, entertaining 
them bountifully in his palace for many days. Nor was 
this all nor enough to satisfy the hospitable heart of the 
half-savage monarch. Displaying all his rich treasures, 
he provided each of Alexander’s companions with such 
varied and sumptuous garments as his rank warranted 
or his fancy inclined him to select ; for in such things the 
Illyrian King was rich beyond all other monarchs, having 
in his service many staunch piratical ships which harried 
the commerce of the Ionian Sea, picking that which was 
valuable and destroying all else. 

While the exiles thus lived sumptuously at the court of 
the Illyrian King Attains, hearing of Alexander’s pres- 
ence there, sent officers demanding that he be given up 

*Historians generally note the exile of Alexander and his friends 
but give only meager details of their sojourn in Epirus or the cause 
of their flight to Illyria. 


Glaucus, the Barbarian 381 

to them or put to death. In view of this the Illyrian King, 
being now at peace with Macedonia, advised Alexander to 
seek a more secure retreat far from the sea, in the im- 
penetrable fastnesses of his kingdom. Acquiescing in 
this, indifferent to his mode of life, he thanked the mon- 
arch for his hospitality, and mounting his horse set out 
with his friends as the King advised. Clitus reflecting on 
the Illyrian’s action, exclaimed that it was cowardly and 
lacking in friendship. But in truth the whole world 
feared Philip’s power and the energy with which he pur- 
sued his enemies. So that the hospitable King, whose 
ancestors had thought it a pastime to make war on Mace- 
donia, now went out of his way to evade a conflict. 

Ascending the majestic Drilo, Alexander at last reached 
the domain of Glaucus, the Illyrian chieftain whose ter- 
ritory lay to the north of the great pass that crosses the 
Scordus Mountains into Macedonia. This warlike and 
adventurous chief, while hospitable to visitors, was seldom 
or never at peace with his neighbors. Ravaging their 
territory when opportunity offered or his temper inclined, 
he despoiled them of all they had, even of their bodies. 
For in derision and to keep alive the animosities of his 
people, he used the skulls of his enemies for drinking cups 
and lamps and other useful purposes about his house. 
From one of these he always drank, and if desirous of 
honoring a guest asked him to do likewise. 

“They are the skulls of chiefs once my enemies,” he 
would exclaim with pride, giving the names of the unfor- 
tunate victims. “Not caught in ambush, but gathered 
one and all on the field of battle.” 

Placed here and there about the interior of his rude 


382 


Iskander 


castle, the flaming wicks of flax protruding from the eye- 
less sockets, gave to the dimly lighted rooms a grewsome 
appearance, distressing in the extreme to Hephestion and 
the more tender hearted of Alexander’s companions. 

“The handles of these torches,” he would go on, hold- 
ing one up to view, “like the lamps and drinking cups, are 
made of the bones of enemies. Thus a shin bone that 
would have been left for wolves to gnaw I put to a good 
use,” and tapping the hollow bone his bearded face would 
light up with a grim smile at thought of the conflict and 
the number of enemies slain or taken captive. 

The subjects of this half savage chieftain were nowise 
different from their master. Rude shepherds clad in un- 
tanned hides or wild boar skins, they watched their flocks 
in the dark windings of the streams or on the sides of 
the rugged mountains. Maintaining intact the tribal re- 
lations of primitive days, they knew no master but their 
chief nor recognized any form of government save his 
will. Fair haired and blue-eyed, they received strangers 
with hospitality and looked upon the beggars that infested 
the country as the elect of the Gods. Leading uneventful 
lives, war was to them at once a source of profit and a 
pastime. Living in caves or rude hovels made of rough 
stones or unhewn timber, their little flocks afforded them 
food and raiment, and if need be a medium of exchange. 
In their religion, as might have been expected, they kept 
alive the savage superstitioi^ and customs born of the 
solitude and wild mythology of primeval man. Such 
were the Illyrians, the barbarians of the north, in ancient 
times — the Albanians of today. 

Among these primitive children Alexander and his- 


Glaucus, the Barbarian 


383 


friends remained many months, passing the time in hunt- 
ing the savage animals that had their home in the moun- 
tains and forests, or participated in the rude pastimes of 
the savage chief. This with some show of contentment 
until time passing they noted with apprehension the prep- 
arations of their host for some impending war. Not as 
before, but on a larger scale, as if against a greater enemy. 
Believing this portended some unfriendly movement 
against his own country, Alexander, consulting his 
friends, sought an early excuse for taking his departure. 
Nor too soon, as it presently appeared, for riding forth 
one morning with his friends they were startled by the 
frenzied cries of men and women in the forest near at 
hand. Turning to one side to ascertain the cause, they 
came upon the chief and his savage priests immolating 
the victims that in their superstition they believed neces- 
sary to insure victory in the coming war. The helpless 
creatures thus sacrificed to their savage belief were the 
pick of the ancient tribe, consisting of three young and 
fair-haired maidens and a like number of comely youths. 
And, strangest of all, and in dire contrast, three black 
rams. Horrified at the distressing sight Alexander and 
his companions turned and hurried away, the cries of the 
murdered victims ringing in their ears. Returning to the 
rude castle of the savage chief they donned their armor 
and sat down to await his coming. Returning presently, 
highly pleased at the successful termination of the sacri- 
fice, he was much surprised and grieved when they told 
him of their determination to depart. Nor could they 
themselves contemplate it without regret, because of his 
generous hospitality and unvarying kindness. Thanking 


384 


I s kander 


him with grateful hearts, they presented him with such 
loving tokens as they had, in further evidence of their 
gratitude. After which, bidding him adieu, they 
mounted their horses and took their departure with many 
expressions of friendship and regret. 

Note: Of the practice of the Illyrian barbarians and kindred 
people of sacrificing human beings in their superstition, historians 
make frequent mention. Thus in the particular case of Kleitus, 
an Illyrian chief who mad'e war on Alexander in the first year of 
the latter’s reign. Alexander fiercely charging his enemy, the Illyri- 
ans retreating behind the walls of Pelion, abandoned the human sacri- 
fices they had just offered up, on the ground before the gates of the 
city. 


CHAPTER XXIX. 


WHAT THE KING HEARD. 

Alexander's enemies gaining confidence as the days 
passed, sought in every way to defame his character and 
put an end to his life. First it was whispered about the 
court that he was organizing an army in Epirus, with the 
connivance of the Molossian monarch, to invade Mace- 
donia and put the King to death. This story proving to 
be untrue, many others of like nature took its place. 
F'inally it was said that the Illyrian King, espousing Alex- 
ander’s cause, was about to invade the country with a 
great army for the purpose ol placing the exiled Prince 
upon the throne. Philip, ever prompt in action, lost no 
time in sending spies into the enemy’s country to ascer- 
tain the truthfulness of what he heard. These shortly re- 
turning, reported that the Illyrians were everywhere col- 
lecting their forces for the invasion of Macedonia, but 
whether to aid Alexander or not they were unable to 
learn. The rumored invasion proving to be true, Philip 
instantly made preparations to repel the attack, and if suc- 
cessful to carry the war into the enemy’s country. 

While the King was thus engaged in collecting his 
army it came to the ears of Amyntas that Clitus had re- 
turned to Pella and lay concealed at the house of Par- 
cledes. Bribing a slave of the Princess, he learned that 
the hardy soldier was in secret conference with other dis- 
affected subjects of the King and that meetings were 

( 385 ) 


386 


I s kand e 


held nightly to' perfect their plans ; but of the extent of the 
conspiracy, or who was in it, or its particulars, the slave 
could tell nothing. It was enough for Amyntas that Clitus 
had returned without the sanction of the King, and doing 
so had forfeited his life and the lives of those who gave 
him shelter. Imparting what he had learned to the Queen, 
and magnifying its importance, the latter lost no time in 
informing the King. Knowing the deep love the army 
bore Alexander, Philip was greatly disturbed, and it 
added to his sorrow that Clitus, whom he still cherished, 
should become a party to so base an act of rebellion. Dis- 
trusting the story yet believing it to be true, he knew 
not what to do. At last, fearing longer to delay action 
and uncertain whom to trust, he determined to go himself 
and inquire into the matter, and if need be arrest the con- 
spirators. Accordingly, summoning a troop of the Com- 
panion cavalry, he left the city after nightfall, and reach- 
ing Parcledes’ house stationed the soldiers about the place, 
so that no one could escape. Dismounting he advanced 
alone, and reaching the hut was admitted by the slave 
whom Amyntas had bribed. Secreting himself in a dark 
room adjoining that in which the conspirators met, he 
waited with angry impatience the disclosure of the con- 
spiracy. Nor was it long before voices were heard, and 
among them that of Clitus, apprising the King that his 
visit was not in vain. Assured now of the truthfulness 
of what he had heard, Philip, releasing his dagger, threw 
himself down beside the closed door to await the dis- 
closure of the plot. Presently, Orestes entering the ad- 
joining room, with Jaron, Clitus, springing up, hastened 
to them, crying out: 


387 


What the King Heard 

'‘Greeting, good leech; and you, Orestes, doubly a vic- 
tim of war and ambuscade. But is it as bad as this,” he 
went on as Orestes advanced, assisted by Jaron, "do your 
wounds show no sign of healing, my brave comrade?” 

"The wound received in the winter battle was not a 
thing to have troubled him,” the leech interposed, "had 
not the poisoned javelin of Amyntas tainted the blood 
and so opened the old sore afresh.” ‘ 

" ’Twas a cowardly blow, and he who gave it deserved 
death, but being a Prince and in the King’s favor naught 
was said,” Clitus exclaimed bitterly. 

“Nay, he was everywhere praised for the act by the 
faithful, so adroit was his story,” Jaron mildly replied. 

"While poor Orestes, hidden away and making no sign, 
was condemned unheard,” Eurydice interposed, casting a 
loving glance on the attractive youth. 

"Oh, oh! Does the wind blow that way after these 
many months? Amyntas’ blow was not so unfortunate 
after all, it appears,” Clitus exclaimed under his breath, 
as he watched the lovers clasp hands beneath the flowing 
drapery of their garments. "But tell me, Orestes,” he 
went on reflectively, "what speech passed between you 
and Amyntas that afternoon as we sat on our horses pa- 
tiently awaiting his movements. I have often thought to 
question you, but forgot it, as I am apt to do with lesser 
things.” 

To this inquiry Orestes offering some opposition, Eury- 
dice cried out : 

“Tell him, Orestes, that your name may be cleared in 
the eyes of the Prince and his friends. For the ungrate- 
ful King I care naught.” 


388 


Iskander 


Whereupon, being thus urged, Orestes told all that 
Amyntas had said, as recounted in the opening chapter 
of this story. 

‘‘ ’Tis as I thought at the time, yet could do naught,” 
Clitus exclaimed when the other had finished. ‘‘This is 
the Prince, good friends, whom our simple King trusts 
before his own son and the faithful officers of his army,” 
he went on with angry speech. “But it is clear enough, 
Orestes, that ’twas not what you said that precipitated 
the blow. What was it then ?” he concluded, meditatively. 

At this Orestes, coloring, would say nothing, until at 
last Eurydice, adding her importunities to those of the 
others, he answered: 

“Amyntas has ever treasured a bitter hatred against 
Alexander, and at Cheronea, riding behind the Prince, he 
sought to transfix him with his lance and, I being a wit- 
ness to the act, his hatred was also directed towards me.” 

“To assassinate the Prince!” everyone exclaimed in 
amazement. 

“Yes, and seeing hinj poise his spear for the stroke I 
cried out in horror as I sought to prevent the crime, but 
ere I could grasp the weapon he had thrown the mis- 
sile.” 

“And Alexander?” Clitus cried, holding his breath. 

“The Prince, as the Gods would have it, stooping at 
the moment to rescue a companion, the spear passed high 
above his head. Flying thus unobstructed, it struck the 
Theban general, killing him on the spot.” 

“Beard of Cyclops I I have been some use to the state, 
for it was I the Prince reached down to save,” Clitus 
cried when he could regain his voice. 


389 


What the King Heard 

“Yes,” Orestes answered, “and except for your being 
under the horse’s feet and the Prince espying you, Amyn- 
tas’ lance had certainly killed him.” 

“The Gods be praised,” Clitus fervently responded. 

“Nor is that all or half the villainy of this treasonable 
and murderous Prince,” Jaron interrupted in his mild 
voice, “for it was Amyntas, aided by Attains, who planned 
the scene at the banquet that so nearly cost the King and 
Alexander their lives, though Attains thought that only 
the Prince was to be put to death.” 

“How know you this ?” Clitus cried, amazed. 

“That I cannot divulge,” Jaron answered, evading a di- 
rect reply. “It is enough that I was privy to it through 
those I served. But being a stranger in Pella and having 
little interest in the matter I did nothing save to privately 
warn you to go armed to the feast.” 

“Eye of Cyclops ! I remember well the mysterious mes- 
sage, and taking the hint went armed, as did the Prince 
and his friends, Eumenes and Leonidas. Except for that 
the King would certainly have been put to death ere suc- 
cor could have reached him.” 

“Put to death, say you?” Orestes exclaimed, his pale 
face flushing at the other’s recital. 

“Yes, for detecting a conspiracy when the lamps were 
extinguished, the Prince rushed to Philip’s side crying 
‘the King! the King!!’ and we following, the conspira- 
tors could by no means beat down our defense, and so 
were unable to reach either Alexander or the King, who 
lay insensible on the floor. Thus we stood about Philip’s 
body until Antipater, reaching the scene, the conspirators 
drew off, continuing their cry of ‘Treason.’ ” 


390 


Iskander 


‘‘Another thing that incensed Philip against his son 
more than the attempt on his life was the story told him 
that the Prince was enamored of Cleopatra and visited her 
on the day of the King’s arrival for the purpose of press- 
ing his suit, knowing she was pledged to his father,” 
Jaron exclaimed, interrogating Clitus with his searching 
eyes. 

“ ’Twas a foul lie,” Clitus answered enraged. “He 
went to her house to press Pausanias’ suit, knowing noth- 
ing of the King’s purpose. No ! Alexander would not 
have wed Cleopatra had he been promised the sovereignty 
of the world, his heart being already pledged to another,” 
he concluded, glancing at Parcledes. 

“Why has the King not been told then, if Alexander 
and his companions are blameless?” Eurydice asked in 
her childlike faith. 

“What good ?” Clitus answered scoffingly. “He would 
not believe us. Time was when the King was not so 
simple; but ’tis bad for those about when old men fall 
in love. It blinds the sharpest eyes, they say, and Philip, 
having but one, is the more easily fooled. But good night, 
sweet Princess, and you, my friends,” he went on, rising 
to his feet. “Much talk has made me sleepy, and I have 
far to go on the morrow and a heart that will not make 
the distance less,” and gathering up his hat and cloak 
he retired without further words. His example being 
shortly followed by the others, for it was now late, silence 
and darkness quickly succeeded the animated scene. 

When all were gone Philip rose to his feet, his form 
shaking as with the ague. Indeed, so weak and trembling 
was he with horror and rage that he had scarce strength 


391 


What the King Heard 

to leave the house or mount his horse. Returning slowly 
to Pella, he meditated, sometimes in anger but more often 
in sorrow, on what he had heard. Reaching the fortress, 
he dispatched a messenger for Parmenio, his general, and 
announced his intention of setting out for the seat of the 
Illyrian war at daylight. Giving directions for his escort 
to be ready he sought his room, denying admission to all 
save the attendant pages. 

Note ; Historians refer, but not at any length, to this campaign 
of Philip against the Illyrian King Pleurias, on the eve of the great 
festival. ' 


CHAPTER XXX. 


ON THE BATTLE FIELD. 

Driven from Epirus and scarcely less welcome in Illy- 
ria, Alexander at last determined to return to his own 
country. There, amid the mountains and wooded soli- 
tudes of Orestis, Clitus promised him a secure retreat 
among the loyal adherents of his ancient tribe. Crossing 
the Scordus mountains with his companions, they accord- 
ingly directed their steps toward the South. But ere they 
had proceeded a day’s journey great was their surprise to 
encounter Philip’s spies, some of whom Alexander had 
similarly employed in theThracian and Grecian campaigns. 
From them Alexander learned that the King was hasten- 
ing at the head of his army to attack the Illyrian King 
Pleurias, who had declared war and was then on the bord- 
ers of the kingdom. Nor was it probable, they thought, 
that a battle would be long delayed ; and so it turned out. 

Advised in this way of the presence of the King and 
the direction of his march Alexander followed after with 
his companions, awaiting the event of the conflict. When 
at last the forces encountered each other in battle Alex- 
ander was some distance away, and so did not reach the 
field until the conflict had been some time in progress. 
But opportunely as it appeared, for the King’s troops wa- 
vering under the savage onslaught of the Illyrian forces, 
Alexander and his companions emerging from the forest, 

( 392 ) 


On the Battle Field 


393 


charged them at headlong speed, and with such fury that 
the enemy, unable to withstand the shock, and thinking 
unexpected reinforcements had arrived, turned and fled 
in wild disorder. 

Returning from the pursuit, Alexander crossed the field 
of battle, and doing so was astonished beyond measure to 
come upon Glaucus, the Illyrian who had so recently be- 
friended him. This unconquerable chief, recognizing him, 
made no sign, but stood amid the remnant of his tribe, 
his head high aloft in savage defiance of the enemies who 
surrounded him. Dismounting in haste, Alexander em- 
braced him with tender expressions of friendship, ex- 
claiming : 

’Tis a sorry sight, courageous chief, and grieves me 
to the heart to find you thus a captive among your ene- 
mies. You who but a day ago afforded me and my friends 
the shelter and hospitality of your country.’' 

’Tis the fate of war, oh Prince, and why may not 
my skull light an enemy to bed as well as another’s,” he 
answered, referring to his practice of using his enemy’s 
skulls in this way. 

‘‘Alas, that would be but a sorry return for your gen- 
erous hospitality. Surely the King will not thus repay 
your great kindness,” Alexander answered, deeply moved. 

“Nay, ’tis not likely he will grant me favor, for I have 
ever been the first to set foot on his domain when war 
was on,” Glaucus exclaimed, unmoved. 

“The King slays not those who yield nor ^risits upon 
his enemies the memory of conflicts past,” Alexander an- 
swered confidently. 

“To be killed is naught, but I like not these thongs,” 


394 


Iskander 


the chieftain replied, gazing with sorrow on his bonds. 
“They too surely forecast the slave market and a life of 
servitude. Let him slay me! I care not. ’Tis the other 
I fear,” he went on, contemplating his shackled limbs. 

Cutting the cords with his sword and bidding his com- 
panions to do the same with Glaucus’ tribesmen, Alexan- 
der cried out : 

“I will claim your freedom of the King as the measure 
of our reward if we have done aught this day to merit 
favor in his eyes,” and embracing the stalwart chieftain 
he hastened to find the King. 

Philip, who knew not the source from whence the time- 
ly aid had come, stood alone before his tent as Alexander 
approached. Recognizing his son as he drew near, he 
stirred not, astonished and overcome at the unexpected 
meeting. Hurrying forward, intent upon his errand of 
mercy, Alexander would have fallen upon his knees, but 
the King, reaching out, caught him in his arms and kiss- 
ing him exclaimed : 

“Not so do I receive you, my brave and loyal son, but 
on my very heart as in the days when we were one.” 

Embracing his father in return, deeply affected by his 
greeting, Alexander for some time could make no re- 
sponse. At last, overcoming his emotion, he made known 
his request and the reason therefor, praying the King to 
do as he asked. 

“What I” Philip screamed in rage, “release that untam- 
able savage, that mountain rat, who gnaws my grain 
sacks and runs off my cattle when open war does not 
unsheathe his bloody sword 1 But have your way ; ’twas 
a kindness he did you and one I would repay with a 


On the Battle Field 


395 


province, were he to ask it,” the King went on, his mood 
changing, delighted at being able to dO' Alexander a 
service. 

Falling on his knees Alexander kissed the King’s hand 
in grateful thanks, begging that he would lose no time 
in fulfilling the act of mercy. And on the King’s giving 
orders for the release of Glaucus and his adherents, Alex- 
ander sought permission to accompany the messenger in 
person. Doing so, he restored to the chief his arms, and 
then tenderly embracing him bade him adieu with many 
expressions of sincere regard. This duty of friendship 
performed, Alexander hastened to the King’s side to ask 
respecting the doings at Pella, but more than all of his 
love, Roxana, about whom he had heard nothing for 
many weeks. The King, knowing nothing of Alexander’s 
having wed the Princess, answered bluntly: 

‘That sweet woman, worthy to be Queen of all the 
world, is, ere this, far on her way to her own country.” 

“To her own country, oh King! Have you then sent 
her away?” Alexander asked with choked voice, his heart 
standing still. 

“Yes, with her father, the noble Oxyartes, but with 
every honor and upon my own ship, suitably convoyed, 
that all the world might see the high regard in which I 
hold her,” the King responded with animation. 

“ ’Twas an honor well bestowed,” Alexander answered 
after a while, his heart overflowing. 

“The Athenian fleet spreading all its sails and manned 
by the Grecian admiral would not have been too much.” 

“But it was reported,” the Prince went on, regaining 


396 


I ska nder 


somewhat his composure, “that she was much set upon 
by my enemies about the court, and that her father was 
not able to shield her from the harassment.” 

“By the Gods, I knew naught of such a thing,” the 
King answered astonished, “and well it was that I did 
not, if it be true, for of all women living or dead none 
have I ever more esteemed.” 

“Well you may, oh King, for she is the pearl of all 
women,” Alexander answered with rapturous passion. 

“Yes, and believing it to be so I thrice offered her the 
crown, promising to banish all others if she would become 
my wife,” Philip exclaimed, his face flushing at the recol- 
lection. 

Hearing this' Alexander half drew his sword, so great 
was his surprise and rage, but Philip, putting his hand 
aside, cried out : 

“Fret not your heart, my son, nor let anger stir you 
because of what I did, for it but proved the faithfulness 
of her love for you. Not the crown of Macedonia, nor of 
Greece, nor Persia, nor all of them together, which I 
offered her, drew from her aught but a refusal,” the 
King exclaimed, his face clouding at the remembrance of 
the cruel rebuff. 

“Your offer surely, oh King, was not made to tempt 
her?” Alexander exclaimed, amazed, scarce crediting 
what the other said. 

“No, nor to feed an idle fancy, as I am sometimes, like 
to do. For she is of such grace and virtue that I, Philip, 
not less than other men, was sobered by the contact. Re- 
fusing me thrice as I say, I sent her back to Persia in all 


On the Battle Field 


397 


honor, mourning her departure with a sore heart,” the 
great King answered with deep emotion. 

*‘Brave, gracious, sweetest of all women!” Alexander 
murmured, hiding his face in his hands to conceal the 
tears that filled his eyes. 

^‘Yes, and worthy to be your Queen, when you shall 
reign. But ’tis not fit that you should wed her now, 
for it would destroy your chance of mounting the throne 
to wed a Persian Princess ; and that were a foolish waste. 
You may win and have her, but first you must conquer 
Persia.” 

“Conquer Persia! I!” Alexander exclaimed, staring 
at the King astonished. 

“Yes, you, Alexander,” the King continued, smiling 
grimly. 

“And you ? I thought it the crowning ambition of your 
life,” Alexander exclaimed, stirred to the heart by what 
the King said. 

“So it was and would be were you absent. Now I will 
lead my armies no further than Asiatic Greece. Tis for 
you to do the rest, for distracted and warring Greece 
claims my presence here. Remaining and encouraging 
those who strive and putting down with an iron hand the 
demagogues and agitators,” he went on with animated 
voice, “I will consolidate the political atoms of that great 
country and make of it an empire. Thus I will build up 
a mighty power, and Greece, being freed from its jeal- 
ousies and petty aspirations, may pursue the lofty aims it 
has babbled of these three hundred years or more. In this 
labor I will make Demosthenes my minister, Alexander, 


398 


Iskander 


for he only among the Athenians is truly great. He only 
comprehended me from the first. He only has always op- 
posed me. He only strove to consolidate the Grecian pow- 
er and so stay my arms. But his countrymen, whde they 
listened, spell bound, would not follow talk with warlike 
action.’' 

a 

“But Demosthenes is the enemy of our country, the 
disbursing agent of the Persian King,” Alexander quer- 
ied. 

“Whatever he may have been matters not. He only 
comprehends events. He only saw from the first that I 
meditated the subjugation of Greece, and that only by 
staying my hand could Athens remain independent. He 
only is worthy to be my minister or thine, and with his 
help I will unite the severed parts of Greece and quiet its 
centuries of internal hatreds.” 

“No one less wise, less strong than you, oh King, can 
achieve so great an undertaking. Nor do I believe it pos- 
sible with such agents as Demosthenes. New men must 
be sought. All those who direct Grecian thought must 
be swept away. They are mere dreamers and talkers. 
Men of the past. They cannot see that Greece must suc- 
cumb at last to Rome, or some still more barbarous peo- 
ple without our unity and warlike strength; that, alone, 
Greece will be torn asunder piece-meal, and so, at last, 
enslaved ; and by an alien and cruel race,” Alexander ex- 
claimed, excited by the thought. 

“It shall be my duty to achieve this, and if Demos- 
thenes and the others hang back — refuse us comradeship 
— I will put them aside and destroy them, as I have every 


On the Battle Field 


399 


impediment that has obstructed my path.* It is my office 
to quiet Grecian animosities and bind up her wounds. It 
is yours to conquer and govern Persia, sharing her abund- 
ant riches with our impoverished country,” the King 
cried, contemplating the work with exaltation. 

“And afterwards?” 

“Afterwards,” the King continued, musing, “after- 
wards, when I am dead, you will consolidate the two king- 
doms, governing both. Thus,” he went on, his face light- 
ing up, “the poor groundling, Macedonia, will, in the end, 
dominate the world.” 

Such were the lofty aims of the great King, so fertile in 
planning, so prompt in execution, so wise in governing. 
But alas, poor monarch, he was not to accomplish his 
mighty aims, and so both Greece and Persia, which could 
spare neither Philip nor Alexander, were to lose the ad- 
vantage of their united lives, and in the end be little bene- 
fited by the efforts of either. 

*This wholesale obliteration of Athenian and other Grecian ob- 
structionists was afterwards carried out by the successors of Philip 
and Alexander. But, alas, by men not having either their exalted 
courage or genius for government, nor having the confidence of 
Macedonia. And so it was without avail, and Greece went on pal- 
tering and jabbering to her destruction. 


CHAPTER XXXL 


THE DEATH OF PHILIP. 

Leaving now the domain of romance of which, indeed, 
little use has been made, there remains not much to tell 
save that which historians have loved to dwell upon for 
two thousand years and more. And, fitly enough, it is 
amid the resplendent scenery of Edessa, the ancient cap- 
ital of Macedonia, that our story nears its close. Here, 
four hundred years before, Perdiccas, the first of the line 
of Dorian Kings, erected his citadel on the precipitous 
cliff and established his capital in the grassgrown valley 
below. Beside the castle walls the trickling mountain 
streams at last converging, plunged from the dizzy 
heights in glittering cascades to the foaming depths be- 
low. There^^ divided anew, the refreshing supply watered 
the ancient city and fertile plains beyond, forming at last 
the never-failing supply of Pella and its adjacent river. 
Within an arrow's flight of the ancient citadel and com- 
manded by its rugged walls, the time-worn pass that con- 
nected the mountains and plains of Macedonia wound its 
devious way. Just as at a later day, when the last Mace- 
donian King was overcome, it connected Rome with its 
subjugated provinces in the East. 

Philip returning in all haste from the Illyrian cam- 
paign, found the historic city crowded with distinguished 
visitors, impatiently awaiting the events of the great fes- 

( 400 ) 


401 


The Death of Philip 

tival. All the nobles and landed proprietors of Mace- 
donia who could afford a cloak or decent coat were there, 
their slender purses strained to the utmost to make a 
notable display. The Grecian states and cities, anxious 
to conciliate the rising power of the North, each sent their 
foremost citizens to do homage to the mighty King. From 
Thrace and the wild countries to the north and west came 
barbaric Kings and Princes, attended by their savage 
chiefs and allies. Dressed in picturesque attire, resplend- 
ent with color, they offered humble obeisance to the 
mighty warrior who beat back their invading forces with 
iron hand as the bear overcomes and crushes its less pow- 
erful enemies. 

Among the savage chieftains who thus came to do 
honor to the King was Glaucus, the Illyrian. Nor came 
he empty handed, but with drinking cups and staffs for 
torches, some of which, as he privately explained to Alex- 
ander, he had been so fortunate as to collect since the lat- 
ter's visit. All these he presented to Philip in person, and 
doing so thanked him for his leniency after the recent bat- 
tle. At which the King, much pleased, patted the cheek 
of the savage chieftain and smiled upon him, delighted 
with his person and the singular presents he brought. 

Philip, all unconscious of his impending fate and de- 
spising his enemies as in the past, had invited Olympias, 
the implacable Queen, to return to Macedonia to witness 
the marriage of her daughter to the Molossian King. For 
it was this event, intended to cement the bonds of peace 
between Macedonia and Epirus, not less than the cele- 
bration of the birth of a son by Cleopatra, that was the 
occasion and excuse for the great festival. 


402 


Iskander 


Of the conspiracy divulged while he lay concealed in 
the darkened room of Parcledes’ hut, the King thought 
not at all. Filled with anger and shame on that eventful 
night, he had returned to his palace vowing vengeance 
against all his enemies. But first the invasion of the Illy- 
rian King must be met and crushed ; afterwards he would 
mete out punishment to the conspirators who took advan- 
tage of his complaisant disposition. But now, returning 
amidst the preparations for the great festival, he put off 
his resolve until a later day, unwilling that the world 
should witness the internal dissensions of his kingdom. 

The conspirators, all unaware that their treason was 
known to the King, renewed their plotting, emboldened by 
the impunity of the past and the confusion attendant upon 
the great festival. Amyntas, whose impatience and ha- 
tred grew with the passing years, lost no opportunity to 
stir the enemies of the King to fresh endeavors. To the 
Lyncestian Princes he gave gold and costly presents, sup- 
plied from the abundant treasures of the Persian agent, 
Mithrines. These he promised to follow by coveted 
preferment and alluring honors when he should mount 
the throne. Most of all he excited anew the jealousy and 
rage of Pausanias against the King, because of the latter’s 
refusal to redress a hideous and unnamable outrage At- 
talus had committed on the person of the young noble. 
Now, Attains being in Asia on the King’s affairs, and so 
beyond reach, Amyntas directed all Pausanias’ hatred 
against Philip for having refused him redress and other- 
wise honoring his oppressor. In this way the young 
noble’s discontent and rage, which was of long standing, 
because of his vanity and unsatisfied cravings, was awak- 
ened into new and bitter life. 


403 


The Death of Philip 

Nor was the savage and relentless Olympias idle. Call- 
ing to her side all who had a grievance, she inflamed each 
with a desire for vengeance, promising redress of every 
wrong once the King were dead. Her instruments were 
those of Amyntas and the end the same, except that 
Alexander and not the other was to become King. Of 
this, however, she said nothing, save to those whose in- 
terests coincided with her own. But of all those she 
sought as agents, only the weak and vacillating Pausanias 
could be prevailed upon to openly venture, and he re- 
luctantly. Calling him to her side as the eventful day 
drew near, she applied all her arts to win him over. 

‘‘You have many and sore grievances, Pausanias,’’ she 
cried. “One loathsome and unappeasable. Attains’ work. 
As if that were not enough, the harlot Cleopatra openly 
scorns you, each day devising some new indignity to hu- 
miliate and wound you. Attalus, who has most harmed 
you and honored above all men by the King, you cannot 
reach. But Philip, who protects him and so deprives you 
of redress, is at your mercy. Killing him you will put an 
end to the lives of those who pursue you with scorn and 
malignant hatred, for not one shall survive him, I swear 
by all the Gods!” 

“You promise this?” Pausanias cried, his eyes gleam- 
ing with hatred. 

“Yes, death to them and all honor tO' you, Pausanias, 
for you shall have wealth, position and the fame you 
crave. All these you may achieve, and quickly, by put- 
ting the monster to death,” she answered, her passion 
choking her voice. 

“ ’Tis not an easy thing to do,” he answered, his face 


404 


Iskander 


covered with sweat, ‘*for tlie King goes not abroad un- 
guarded.” 

“Are you not one of the guard and high in rank ?” she 
cried impatiently. “Today, tomorrow, the day of the vain 
display, the opportunity may be offered you. Cease then 
your complainings of wrongs unredressed and right them 
by a brave and manly deed.” 

“But how, oh Queen ? Show me a way, for I can see 
none,” he answered, somewhat impatiently. 

“Have you not a sword, or better still a dagger? Do 
you fear to do what others with less cause have done?” 
she answered bitterly. “The deed committed, mount your 
horse and fly. The mountains afford you a secure retreat. 
Afterwards when Alexander is seated on the throne you 
may return to receive the honors and riches which I will 
bestow upon you,” she concluded, and in this promise, as 
in all the acts of the great Queen, there was no trick 
or mental reservation. 

“Having access to the King I may kill him as you say, 
but what will it avail me if the next moment my body lies 
pierced by a hundred spears,” Pausanias answered little 
moved. 

“Fool ! Have you no courage? No head to plan ? Learn 
a lesson from the brave men who put Jason to death. 
Striking him down, surrounded by his army, they sought 
safety in flight and so saved themselves and destroyed 
an implacable foe, as you may do,” Olympias exclaimed 
with savage energy. 

“If the deed be done ’twill be for you to plan, oh Queen, 
for you gain more by the King’s death than I,” Pausanias 
answered sullenly. 


405 


The Death of Philip 

^The planning is a simple thing if, finding a way, you 
lose not heart when the time comes,” Olympias exclaimed, 
interrogating him with flaming eyes. 

“Find me but a way to escape when the deed is done 
and I will kill him were he a thousand times the King,” 
Pausanias responded excited by the thought. 

“Killing him you will have achieved your wish of eter- 
nal fame, and, the monster dead, the cowardly enemies 
who make you the scorn of women and the derision of 
men, being pow^less, you may work your will on them. 
This, I swear,” Olympias cried, exciting his vanity and 
desire for revenge. 

“But having done the deed if you were afterwards to 
abandon me?” the poor wretch exclaimed, his doubts re- 
turning. 

“Coward ! Has Olympias ever abandoned a loyal 
friend? Ever foregone a revengeful purpose? Ever done 
less than her plighted word? For shame to doubt me,” 
she cried with furious anger. 

“The attempt will avail nothing,” he answered despond- 
ently. “Others have sought to kill him and perished mis- 
erably. My dagger was upraised to strike him and yet he 
lives. Foremost in a hundred battles, beguiled, entrapped, 
a fugitive, yet he escaped. No! no! ’Twere an idle at- 
tempt and I will have none of it,” he concluded with de^ 
jected voice. 

“ ’Tis given to men like Philip, who have an appointed 
work, to escape death until the end being achieved and the 
Gods wearying, they at last abandon them to their fate,” 
Olympias exclaimed, as if declaring an oracle. 


406 


Iskander 


'Then let us await the hour, nor seek to do a thing con- 
trary to the will of the Gods.’’ 

'The Gods have already decreed Philip’s death. Such is 
the oracle, and doing so make you the agent of their di- 
vine will,” Olympias cried, as if inspired. 

"The Gods have declared Philip’s, the King’s death ?” 
Pausanias exclaimed incredulously. 

"Yes, and most particularly,” she went on, transfixing 
him with her piercing glance. "For thus runs the Delphic 
oracle, voiced by the priestess from the sacred temple: 
The bull is garlanded ; his end draws near ; the sacrificer 
stands ready.’ Could a thing be more clearly foretold ? For 
’tis plain that Philip is the bull, and you the sacrificial 
agent of the mighty Gods, for you only have the fortitude 
to perform the deed,” Olympias concluded with im- 
pressive voice. 

Deeply excited, his vanity stirred to the utmost pitch 
by the exalted summons, Pausanias for a long time re- 
mained silent. At last raising his head aloft and extend- 
ing his hands to heaven as if answering the command, 
he cried with staring eyes: 

"Enough ! The Gods ordain his end. I will obey. ’Tis 
for you, oh Queen, to devise the way — for me to act,” and 
turning abruptly he rushed from the room. 

"Vain, deluded fool,” she cried as she saw him de- 
part. "I will find a way, and if you fall it matters little. 
Alexander will be King; and Cleopatra !” she added, chok- 
ing at the name, as she raised her arms in a frenzy of 
passion, "not all the Gods, nor Alexander’s protecting 
arm, shall save her and her bastard child from the fury of 
my wrath.” 


407 


The Death of Philip 

Assured of Pausanias’ firm determination, Olympias 
lost no time in sending for Clitus, who, with his compan- 
ions, occupied a part of the ancient citadel where Alex- 
ander had taken up his abode. Passing over his greet- 
ing with scant notice, the great Queen exclaimed : 

“What think you, Clitus, of the whisperings about the 
court? The sidelong looks which Cleopatra’s creatures 
cast on Alexander as he passes ? By the Gods !” she went 
on with ferocious energy, “they bode no good to him or 
his friends if I read the parasites aright.” 

“I know not, oh Queen, more than what I see, for the 
fawning sycophants have no voice when I am near,” Cli- 
tus answered. 

“Does the Prince give the matter no thought? Does 
he not see that his life extends not beyond the completion 
of this vain parade and the departure of the King’s 
guests ?” Olympias cried with anxious voice. 

“The Prince troubles himself not at all with such mat- 
ters,” Clitus answered soberly, “but like his father goes 
his way indifferent to what his enemies may do or say.” 

“And so being off his guard will fall as Philip will,” she 
exclaimed, giving Clitus a sidelong look. 

“As Philip will?” the other answered sternly, startled 
by her speech. 

“Yes, as Philip will. Where is all your cunning, Clitus? 
Can you not see that Caranus, the child of Eurydice — 
for so Philip has renamed the painted strumpet Cleopatra, 
to make her claim the stronger — is to be proclaimed heir 
to the throne? That accomplished and Philip being no 
longer needful, he will fall as Perdiccas, his brother, did.” 


408 


Iskander 


‘‘It cannot be. The mighty King is not thus easily to 
be set aside/’ Clitus answered resolutely. 

“He is in the hands of the Gods and they have decreed 
his death from Delphos’ sacred altar/’ she cried, triumph- 
antly. “ ‘The bull is garlanded for the sacrifice.’ So the 
oracle runs, and Philip dead the infant will be thrust 
aside as Amyntas was and, thus, Attalus will at last be 
King.” 

“Attalus! The Gods forbid!” Clitus exclaimed deeply 
excited by what the other said. 

“The Gods will not prevent it, more than in Amyntas’ 
case, if Alexander’s friends stand still with folded arms,” 
she cried. 

“After Philip, whether he die of old age or the thrust 
of a dagger, no one shall succeed him but Alexander,” 
Clitus answered resolutely. “Nor would the army ac- 
knowledge another King,” he went on, convinced of the 
truth of what he said. 

“The army will hail as King the Prince who' first 
mounts the throne. Or there being no preference, he who 
promises it most. If Alexander then be its choice ’tis for 
his friends to see that he is not forestalled by rival claim- 
ants as will surely happen if they stand idly by.” 

“No other can be crowned. ’Tis a thing impossible.” 

“Not more impossible than the overthrow and death of 
an hundred expectant Princes in the lifetime of this blood- 
soaked country,” she answered. “Amyntas, who plotted 
Philip’s and Alexander’s death at Pella, still hopes to be 
King. If Philip fall, and Attalus be absent, as at pres- 
ent, he will strive for the crown, and so striving will suc- 
ceed if Alexander’s friends be not alert.” 


409 


The Death of Philip 

^'What would you have?’' Clitus responded, surprised 
and bewildered by what he heard ; for it was not as if she 
spoke of some possible event, but as of a thing deter- 
mined and of certain and quick occurrence, of which 
neither he nor his friends had any knowledge whatever. 

“I would have you form an impenetrable guard about 
Alexander’s body,” she cried. ‘‘Not conspicuous of no- 
tice, but of real substance and strength. Thus protected 
he cannot be stricken down as Amyntas planned at Pella. 
If Philip, less watchful,” she went on significantly, “suc- 
cumb to the foes he protects and favors, lose not a mo- 
ment in proclaiming Alexander King. It matters not the 
place. Then hasten with all speed to the regal palace 
and occupying it proclaim his accession there. From 
thence let the pronouncement be sounded by voice and 
trumpet throughout the city. Lest the army hesitate, the 
Persian invasion must be proclaimed anew, with prom- 
ises of whatever else the soldiers crave. Thus will the 
Prince come to his own and his enemies be put to flight,” 
she concluded, as if declaiming from a written proclama- 
tion. 

Clitus, speechless, astonished beyond thought at what 
he heard, made no answer but stood gazing with leaden 
eye on the undaunted woman. 

Assured at last of Clitus’ fidelity, she dismissed him, 
exclaiming : 

“Do as I command, Clitus, nor breathe what I have 
said to any save Alexander’s friends. To him say naught 
lest the succession be endangered by some chivalrous act 
and our enemies triumph over him as well as the King. 
There, go! And remember the safety of the monarchy 


410 


Iskander 


and the stay of Macedonia lies in the preservation of 
Alexander’s life. That is your office, brave man ; there is 
no other.” 

Thus coldly was the death of Philip planned and the 
accession of Alexander ordered by the betrayed and re- 
lentless Queen. 

To Philip the great festival now in progress had a 
purpose outside those proclaimed, and of far greater po- 
litical importance to him. For it was his design to make 
the world feel and acknowledge that Macedonia was in 
every way a Grecian state. Master of Greece, he wished 
to be thought a Greek. In furtherance of this, the games 
the Greeks loved and the sacrifices they revered were con- 
ducted on a scale of unparalleled magnificence. Inter- 
spersed with these were sumptuous banquets and grave 
ceremonials of state. The display of his unrivaled cav- 
alry and infantry, which was of hourly occurrence, had 
too' an ulterior purpose, as was the case with all that Philip 
did. About the regal palace and in the streets of the an- 
cient city the music of flutes and clang of timbrels, 
mingled throughout the day with the barbaric instru- 
ments of the mountain tribes. Dancing girls in short 
tunics of brilliant colors accompanied by clowns and 
strolling players, delighted and held the vast throng of 
common people who filled the streets and houses. In the 
theaters, that nothing might be wanting, actors from 
Athens led by Neoptolemus afforded entertainment and 
diversion for the royal family and their distinguished 
guests. At night, as if sleep were a thing denied, huge 
bonfires illuminated the towering cliffs and adjacent 
mountains, casting a lurid light over the city and sur- 
rounding * country. 


411 


The Death of Philip 

Such was the interesting and varied aspect of the city 
as the culminating event of the great festival approached. 
Mindful that its conclusion should accord with the dig- 
nity of the King, the attendant ceremonies were to be held 
in the royal theater, a stately building standing conspicu- 
ously in the center of the city. As this would hold only 
the distinguished guests of the King and Queen it was 
determined, in order that the common people might par- 
ticipate in the event, that the procession should start from 
the regal seat. Accordingly at noon on the eventful day 
the procession formed with stately ceremony in the en- 
closure about the King’s palace. Issuing from the gates 
it was preceded by mounted troops, followed by the 
King’s musicians in their varied and resplendent cos- 
tumes. Afterwards came in order the ministers of the 
King, the Princes of the realm and the representatives 
and chiefs of the visiting states and tribes. Following 
these the King’s royal pages in crimson cloaks and waving 
plumes added to the moving scene. Back of these were 
borne aloft statues of the twelve Gods of Greece and 
mingling with them the image of Philip, who thus de- 
clared himself one of their number. Behind these sacred 
emblems the King walked, unarmed, dressed in a robe 
of white. Following close upon his person and adding to 
the splendor of the spectacle, came the royal bodyguard, 
succeeded by troops of every description in resplendent 
uniforms. 

Nearing the theater amid the wild acclaim of the ex- 
cited throng, Philip motioned his guard to fall back that 
the view of the multitude might be less obstructed. Pro- 
ceeding thus alone, he slowly approached the entrance 


412 


Iskander 


to the vast structure. Observing the Prince and those who 
had followed him into exile standing somewhat apart, the 
King gravely saluted them, smiling his pleasure with the 
action. Alexander’s companions seeing this, fell on their 
knees, overcome by the unexpected and gracious act, and 
thus they remained with bowed heads until the King had 
passed. 

Unconscious of danger Philip reached the entrance to 
the vast structure crowded to its utmost capacity. Look- 
ing forward he beheld Olympias with arm uplifted, her 
gaze fixed with fiery intensity upon some object to his 
right. Thinking it a signal he turned his head curious to 
know the cause, and as he did so Pausanias suddenly 
emerged with wild, distracted air from the sheltered al- 
cove where he stood concealed. Drawing a gallic sword 
from beneath his cloak he rushed furiously upon the un- 
armed King, and without cry or speech of any kind, bur- 
ied the glistening blade to the hilt in Philip’s body. The 
King, sinking down, Pausanias turned and ran to reach 
the horse that awaited him without the enclosure, but trip- 
ping on a vine stalk fell to the ground and ere he could 
regain his feet was overtaken and put to death. Such 
was the ending of this vain and wretched man as men 
saw it and as the chroniclers do not fail to recount. 

Filled with horror at the cruel deed the multitude re- 
mained spellbound, unable to move or cry aloud. Not so 
those privy to the act. Seeing the King fall Amyntas and 
those grouped about him instantly drew their swords, 
crying “Treason ! Treason !” Hearing the familiar cry and 
observing the movements of the conspirators, Alexander’s 
friends unsheathed their weapons and closed about their 


413 


The Death of Philip 

beloved Prince. Seeing this Amyntas and his compan- 
ions, after advancing some distance, turned abruptly away 
as if meditating him no harm. Alexander, transfixed with 
horror and all unconscious of what was transpiring about 
him, arousing himself, ran with all speed to where the 
King lay. Reaching his side he knelt and tenderly raised 
the head of the stricken monarch, resting it on his lap. 
Opening his eyes and recognizing his son, Philip clasped 
his arms about Alexander’s neck, and drawing him down 
kissed him, exclaiming, as he struggled for utterance : 

*‘My hour has come; ’tis a thing ordained, and you will 
soon be King. When I am dead waste not the precious 
moments, but hasten to proclaim yourself ere those who 
strive for the crown take advantage of your negligence. 
When you are King,” he continued, gasping for breath 
and thinking of the work he had left undone, * ‘marshal 
your army and do as we have planned. Having con- 
quered Persia and your power being then secure, seek 
your love, and finding the sweet Roxana, make her your 
Queen. ’Twas an ungracious act,” he went on*, with a 
melancholy smile, “to send her away, and if I erred you 
will forgive me now,” he concluded, struggling against 
the chill of death, his face ashy white. 

“Speak not of such a thing at such a time, father, 
wisest, greatest of Kings,” Alexander cried in a choked 
voice as he bent over and kissed the face of the dying 
monarch. 

“Raise me up, Alexander, for it grows strangely dark,” 
Philip muttered looking about him. Distinguishing the 
faces of Clitus and the others bending over him, tears 
streaming from their eyes, he smiled with something of 


414 


Iskander 


the bon homme of other days, saying! ^^Have I been 
a hard master, comrades?” Then lifting his dimmed eyes 
that his last look might dwell on the face of his immor- 
tal son, he went on with voice scarce above a whisper, ^T 
proclaim Alexander King. Serve him, my brave soldiers, 
as you have served Philip,” and giving a deep sigh the 
mighty King lay dead. 


CHAPTER XXXIL 

THE FULFILLMENT OF LIFE's IDEAL. 

Immediately upon the death of Philip, Alexander was 
crowned King amidst the rejoicings of the army and the 
people of Macedonia. Stilling the internal dissensions of 
his court, he presently found himself beset by open ene- 
mies on all the borders of his kingdom. Armed revolt was 
everywhere proclaimed throughout discordant Greece, the 
ignorant multitude inflamed by demagogues, believing 
Macedonia fatally weakened by Philip’s death. Demos- 
thenes and others less patriotic than he, emerging from 
their retirement, openly advocated an alliance of the Gre- 
cian states against the military power of Macedonia. Ap- 
prised of the growing discontent, Alexander collecting his 
forces, lost no time in marching into Greece. Reaching 
Thessaly he reared his tent in the slumbering vale of 
Tempe on the spot where Roxana and he had first 
plighted their love. Here, beset by enemies on every side, 
he found a melancholy comfort in remembrance of the 
past; and in the stillness of the night, offering sacrifice 
to the Gods, he looked upward to the snow-clad summit 
of the Sabred Mountain, glistening amid the starlit sky, as 
he renewed his vows of undying constancy. Comforted 
by the act he, on the morrow, continued his march, and 
this to a successful conclusion. For the Greeks, unable to 
withstand his invincible army or firm determination, pro- 
claimed him Imperator as they had Philip. Thus the tran- 

( 415 ) 


416 


Iskander 


quillity of Greece was assured; a necessary thing, as in 
Philip's reign, for without it the Persian invasion, upon 
which Alexander’s mind was unalterably fixed, was a 
thing improbable if not impossible. 

Returning to Macedonia with his army the King 
marched into Thrace and so to the north, crossing the 
Balkan to the plains beyond where the savage tribes had 
collected to oppose him. Defeating the Triballi in a great 
battle, wherein three thousand of the enemy were slain, 
he pursued his march to the Danube. Reaching the great 
river he crossed it in the night on improvised boats and 
rafts, a thing unexampled, and, attacking the enemy in 
the early morning, broke their ranks and put them to 
flight. Offering sacrifice to the Gods he recrossed the 
river, and marching from thence through the mountain 
passes of the north came upon the Illyrian army which 
had been gathered about Pelion to invade his country. 
Repulsed in the first onslaught he returned in the night 
and surprising the Illyrians attacked them with savage 
fury, and so overcome and destroyed their army. While 
thus engaged news reached him that Thebes had revolted 
and was besieging the Kadmeia, a fortress occupied by 
Macedonian soldiers, on the outskirts of the ancient city. 
Losing no time he directed his course towards Greece, 
marching through the mountain defiles of Western Mace- 
donia. Thus it turned out that while the disaffected 
Grecians, having heard nothing from him for many weeks, 
believing him dead and his army destroyed, he suddenly 
appeared in the plains of Thessaly. Reaching Thebes, and 
it refusing submission, he stormed the walled city, and, 
capturing it, gave it over to pillage by his soldiers. 


The Fulfillment of Life's Ideal 417 


Conscious at last that the power of Macedonia had been 
strengthened rather than weakened by Philip’s death, the 
savage tribes sued for peace; and Greece, humbled and 
dejected, sought no further to oppose the young King’s 
will. Returning to Macedonia with his army and no 
longer fearing enemies from without or within, he hast- 
ened his preparations for the conquest of Persia. So it 
came about that two years after the death of Philip he 
crossed the Hellespont into Asia, triumphant over all who 
had threatened him at home and abroad. 

The entrancing image of his love Roxana ever before 
him, Alexander marched straight for the army of Darius, 
which awaited his approach on the further shore of the 
river Granicus. Crossing the stream in the face of the 
courageous opposition of the enemy, the army of the great 
King was finally overcome and its scattered fragments put 
to rout. Turning to the south the impregnable citadel of 
Sardis was surrendered by its traitorous governor, Mith- 
rines, without a blow, after which Alexander quickly 
overrun and quieted all Asia Minor. Reaching Syria and 
the eastern shore of the Mediterranean he met and de- 
stroyed the Persian army, six hundred thousand strong, 
at the great battle of Issus, where he captured the wife 
and daughter of Darius. Giving them tents and attend- 
ants apart, and treating them with sovereign honor, he 
continued his march, conquering Sidon and Tyre, and 
afterwards Egypt. His base at last secure, he set his face 
towards Central Asia, where, at the great battle of Ar- 
bela, he overthrew and scattered Darius’ army, numbering 
a million men. This culminating victory opened to him 
all Central Persia and its capitals and the accumulated 


418 


I skander 


treasures of the great King, amounting, historians aver, 
to five hundred million dollars of gold and silver. In 
all these achievements, so glorious and unexampled, Alex- 
ander was followed by Clitus and the cherished friends 
who had accompanied him in his exile from Pella. 

Accepting the submission and homage of Babylon and 
Susa and Persepolis, the birthplace of Persian power, 
Alexander was proclaimed King of the vast empire. In- 
stituting orderly governments and establishing his power 
throughout all the conquered territory he took his way to 
the far East, assured at last of the consummation of his 
undying passion. 

‘‘Despair not of thy love, oh Prince, until twice a King 
it shall still be denied thee.^' 

Overcoming, one by one, the armies and walled cities 
that stood out against him in Upper and Eastern Asia, he, 
at length, approached the stronghold of Persian power in 
far-off Bactria. Here, the brave and ever loyal Oxyartes, 
keeping alive the flame of patriotism to the last, refused 
submission to the young conquerer from the summit of 
his rock-bound citadel. Scaling the heights that over- 
looked the towering fortress, on a dark and stormy night 
in midwinter, Alexander effected the capture of the cit- 
adel by stratagem, and so, at length, found his love, Rox- 
ana. 

Granting the soldiers a respite from all their toils, and 
rewarding them with honors and munificent gifts, Alex- 
ander gave up the days to love and the nights to feasting. 
At last, the contemplated conquest of India drawing near, 
he publicly espoused Roxana, proclaiming her Queen of 
Macedonia and Persia, amid the rejoicings of his follow- 


The Fulfillment of Life’s Ideal 419 


ers and the delight of his Persian subjects. When in this 
way his every ambition and desire had been gratified 
Alexander, transported with joy, knelt before his love, and 
kissing her with rapturous passion, exclaimed : 

“Beloved of heart, now at last you are mine. Now at 
last my every hope and dream of life is fulfilled. Now 
at last and in all honor and glory do my brave Macedon- 
ians possess a Queen worthy their great achievements and 
years of patient waiting.” 

“And now at last, sweet love, do I regain, and wholly, 
my true and simple Prince, Iskander,” she murmured, 
bending over and kissing his upturned face, tears of joy 
filling her beautiful eyes. 

Thus their union was consummated, and the hearts that 
love alone bound were united in happiness and honor, 
never again to be parted. 


THE END. 


Cbc Kottiance of gilbert f)O lnie$ 

AN HISTORICAL NOVEL 

By MARSHALL MONROE KIRKMAN 


“An historical novel. Ranks with the best of its kind * * * The plot is of the strongest^ 
the most stirring adventures being interwoven with a love story which is idyllic and full 
of charm.” — The Manchester Courier (England). 

“Of the beauty and delicacy of the author’s touch there can be no question.” — Chicago 
Tribune. 

“The book is delightful. Full of quotable things.” — The Christian World 

“A vivid and stirring picture of adventure, incident and romance that holds the interest 
of the reader from the start. A pretty love story runs through the book, told with so much 
delicacy and tenderness that it is a distinct charm.” — Baltimore A merican. 

“Each chapter contains something of interest * * * The love story gently and gracefully 
pervades the whole book.” — Vanity Fair (England). 

“The real strength of the book lies in the life-like portrayal of Abraham Lincoln and 
Stephen A. Douglas, as well as Jefferson Davis. The daring venture of introducing 
these men in a romance has been crowned with success.” — The Philadelphia Press. 

“A striking picture of a romantic period of American History * * * Possesses the 
primordial attraction of a really idyllic love story developed with a delicate charm which 
stamps the writer as a literary artist.” — The Empire (England). 

“Told with captivating power.” — The Rt. Rev. Wm. E. McLaren, Bishop of Chicago. 

“Winning golden opinions on all sides. Is an admirable piece of work. A remarkable 
production.” — The Chicago Times-Herald. 

“The love story is pleasantly told. A very readable book.”— 7’^^ Glasgow Herald 
(Scotland). 

“Wherever opened, something beautiful is found.” — The Christian Nationl^^yN York). 

“The bygone days of Illinois in the early days of its settlement pass before our eyes in 
vivid array. Abraham Lincoln, Jefferson Davis, and the pathetic figure. Black Hawk, the 
great Sac Chief, live once more, and throw over us the spell of their commanding personalities.” 
— The Literary World (England). 

“A choice romance, peopled with characters as real as those of Dickens. It has not 
a dull page in it, no one who has begun it will lay it aside unfinished.” — The Book World 
(New York). 

Cloth 12 mo., Gilt Top, Deckle Edges, Illustrated, Price $1.50 


PUBLISHERS: 

THE WORLD RAILWAY PUBLISHING COMPANY 

CHICAGO. 


The Science of Railways 


In 16 Volumes 

Portraying the methods and principles connected with the organiza- 
tion, location, capitalization, construction, maintenance, equipment, mo- 
tive power, operation and administration of railroads, profusely illustrated 
with engravings of railway appliances expressly prepared for the work. 

BV MARSHALL MONROE KIRKMAN 


This great work marks a new and notable departure in class literature, and rep- 
resentative railway men, without distinction, commend it for its thoroughness, vast 
research and impartial representation. While it treats of specific things it does not re- 
flect the methods of any particular property or country. A treasury of research and 
practical experience, it portrays truly and vividly the principles and practices of the 
great art of transportation in their highest and best forms. The work after passing 
through several editions has been revised, enlarged and rewritten to better meet the 
needs of railway men and changed conditions and improvements in connection with 
the construction and operation of railways. 

“A work having the unique distinction of being both comprehensive and thorough. It 
presents in an equally meritorious manner the theoretical and practical aspects of transpor- 
t?.tion. It will^'never cease to be of great value.” — Marvin Hughitt, President, Chicago & 
Northwestern Railway. 

“There is nothing in railway literature to be compared with these books in extent or 
value. I cannot think of anything better that I can do for our employes than to bring such 
a fund of information within their easy reach.” Referring to the revised and enlarged 
edition, he says : “ I congratulate you heartily on the great improvement you have made 
in your unique' railway library.” — Sir William C. Van Horne, Chairman Board of Directors, 
Canadian Pacific Railway. 

“ The full and exhaustive examination of the multitude of conditions that surround and 
apply to the subject “The Science of Railways,” as set forth in the work, required such 
knowledge, experience and patient application as very few men are capable of giving. Mr 
Kirkman’s railway life has especially fitted him for the task, and the work is a splendid 
monument to his ability.” — James J. Hill, President, Great Northern Railway. 

“ Of great value to railway employes and to investors and others interested in railway 
properties.” — William H. Newman, President, New York Central & Hudson River Railway, 

“ Even the casual reader can not fail to remark the fertility and capacity of mind whose 
observations have given him a mastery over such a mass of detail. Every railroad man who 
believes his calling should have the dignity of a profession, owes to Mr. Kirkman a gi'eat 
debt.” — Railway Journal. 

“The author has a great reputation. His books are especially valuable to the pro- 
fession.” — Journal of the German Railway Administration Society. 

“ Mr. Kirkman is an authority in the highest sense on the matters treated in his works.” — 
Banker's Magazine. 

“ Useful to all who desire to gain some insight into the arcana of railway management.” — 
Herapath's Railway Journal, London. 

“ Mr. Kirkman is a recognized authority in America and his views are accepted in 
England.” — Commissioner of Railroads of New South Wales. 

Sold only by subscription 


Publishers 

The World Railway Publishing Company 

Chicago 


^ 

Primitive Carriers 

By MARSHALL MONROE KIRKMAN 

/ 

This unique and rare work of art embraces fifteen hundred beautiful engravings, 
portraying the Primitive Peoples of the world and their methods of carriage in every 
age and quarter of the globe. It also contains an historical account of the peoples of 
remote antiquity, among others the Aryans, Chaldeans, Phoenicians, Carthaginians 
and Grecians. It appeals alike to all classes, ages and conditions; king and peasant, 
bishop and layman, philosopher and fool, rich and poor, all find it equally interesting 
and attractive. Cultivated men and women in every walk of life and in every part of 
the world express their high appreciation of its rare beauty and interest. 

“A more interesting series of illustrations it would be difficult to imagine, or one that 
could give more clear and positive instruction in the history of humanity.” — New York Sun. 

“A work of great merit and beauty.” — Boston Globe. 

“A superb volume, original in conception and unique in literature and art.” — Chicago 
Tribune. 

“The value of this vast collection is greatly enhanced by the explanations and the dates 
that are affixed to most of the illustrations, and by the brief historical essays that are prefixed 
to the several subdivisions.” — New York Daily Tribune. 

“It is a most beautiful and interesting work.” — His Eminence Francis, Cardinal Satolli, 
D. D., Papal Delegate Apostolic U. S. A. 

“For originality of design and thorough treatment of its subject, it is unique among 
books. Disraeli would have enshrined it among his ‘Curiosities of Literature’ as a stroke of 
genius.” — Right Reverend Wm. E. McLaren, D. D., D. C. L., Bishop of Chicago. 

“It treats well and artistically a comparatively new field of literature.” — His Eminence 
James, Cardinal Gibbons, D. D., Archbishop of Baltimore. 

“It is a work that has great value as a conspectus of the nomadic and other tribes of 
men, including their contrivances for locomotion. It fascinated me, and I spent the evening 
poring over its wonderful contents, which are most instructive as well as curious.” — Right 
Reverend A. Cleveland Coxe, D. D., LL. D., Bishop of Western New York. 

“Covers an entirely new ground of the greatest possible interest.” — Right Reverend 
M. N. Gilbert, D. D., LL. D., Bishop Coadjutor of Minnesota. 

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a most instructive and suggestive contribution to our best literature.” — Right Reverend 
Henry C. Potter, D. D., LL. D., D. C. L., Bishop of New York. 

“A very beautiful book. It is not only Classical and Historical, but also a work of great 
interest and usefulness.” — Most Reverend Patrick A. Feehan, Archbishop of Chicago. 

“A most interesting and valuable work.” — Nelson A. Miles, Lieutenant-General, Com- 
manding United States Army. 

The August Rulers of the World find this work quite as fascinating as do their more 
simple brethren. Among the more exalted of these who have commended its worth, beauty 
and artistic merit may be mentioned Her Late Most Gracious Majesty, Queen Victoria; His 
Imperial Majesty, The Czar of Russia; His Majesty, the late King Humbert of Italy; His 
Majesty, Leopold, King of Belgium; His Majesty, the King of Greece. 

The Prices Delivered are as Follows: 

Portfolio Size: Edition de Luxe, Seal Grain Leather, Padded Sides, Gold Center and 

Back Stamp, Gilt Edges $11.50 

“ “ Seal Grain Leather, Flat, Gold Center and Back Stamp, Gilt Edges. . 10.50 

“ “ Best Cloth (Combination), Gold Center and Back Stamp, Gilt Edges 8.50 

PUBLISHERS 

THE WORLD RAILWAY PUBLISHING COMPANY 
CHICAGO. 


LE N ’09 





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